The Gatherer of Souls
by Silent Sky
Summary: A five-hundred-year-old prophecy, a demon with the power to bring the dead back to life. When the destruction of all living beings looms ahead, the Gatherer of Souls calls upon the brothers of the fang to bring the prophecy to fulfillment... ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** A five-hundred-year-old prophecy, a demon with the power to bring the dead back to life. When the destruction of all living beings looms ahead, the Gatherer of Souls calls upon the brothers of the fang to bring the prophecy to fulfillment...

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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The Gatherer of Souls

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Chapter 1

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It was a barren place.

Never had he seen so desolate a landscape, so stark a plane of existence. Never had his eyes beheld so dead a land. And he had seen many in his long life.

There was life here, so to speak. There were demon birds, soaring through the magenta sky, screeching their eternal despair, trapped forever in this blighted place. Strangled, twisted shrubbery sprouted in the crumbling soil, stunted under the sickly purple sun. But it was not true life. It was a terrible place, though not the worst of places to die. It was a fitting grave.

As he scanned the horizon, a cold wind whipped his midnight black hair about his face, teasing strands of silky hair from his long braid to twist in the gusts of stale air. Pushing the vagrant locks away from his dark, frozen eyes, he slid his hands into the opposite sleeves of his black, formal kimono. For a brief moment, his gaze caught on the blood-red symbol emblazoned on the sides of the long, billowing sleeves that hung well past his fingertips. The symbol of his trade, his purpose, his life. His very being.

He was the Gyazaseishou.

Stepping away from the portal behind him, he allowed the tear in the fabric of the world to close. He could open it again when the time came. To walk between worlds was just one aspect of his power. Slowly, he moved forward, his feet making no sound on the rocky ground. Ten paces, and then he stood at the edge of the precipice, looking down on the bones of one of the greatest demons to ever live.

It was sad, to see those bones that had once been a living, breathing being discarded so. Had any besides he and a few select others ever truly known, ever really understood, the difference this demon had made in his lifetime? A life that had been cut so tragically short . . .

Many did not realize that the reason the world today was consumed by petty war and needless famine, overrun by foul, bloodthirsty demons and rampant, needless death, was not some random happening, but the slow decay of the society this demon had worked so hard to build, to stabilize? No, many did not know. But he did. And because of that, he loathed what he was about to do, the crime he was about to commit.

It rendered his heart, but he no longer had any choice. No matter his personal preference, this was what had to be done. He could see no other option.

A full hour passed as he made his slow way down the precarious cliff towards the distant body. When at last he stood at the foot of the skeleton, he craned his neck upwards, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in the oddity he had not seen from afar. The left shoulder was shattered . . . and the damage was fairly recent. Who had dared trespass in this grave? Who had dared go so far as to violate the body?

Shaking his head, he put the matter out of his mind. It made no difference at this point. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to sink into a trance, the trance that allowed him the power of life and death. His power, his birthright.

When a life ended, that soul would pass on into the other world, the world of the dead. There, the soul would move to the part of that world which most suited it, that gave it peace—if that was what the soul desired. Souls ravaged by hate or bitterness, tainted by ambition or sadism, those souls found their way to what humans called Hell. It was their own inner essence that drew them into the horror that was the darkest depths of the netherworld; it was not condemnation by any god, as so many believed.

Souls that craved peace in the light could easily find it, and spend the rest of their existence in harmony and tranquility. The more time that passed as the soul existed in that peace, the more it would fade into the distance, eventually becoming a whisper in the light that would be reborn into the living world again. Time had no meaning in the world of souls; for some, they faded quickly, being reborn in a mere few centuries by living standards. For others, time stretched into the realms of infinity as they waited in the other world to once again rejoin the living. All depended on how strong the soul was upon the death of the body—and how quickly that soul was able to find peace. Occasionally, a soul that had died with a purpose incomplete and was unable to attain peace could find its way to a living body in the form of reincarnation, and then try to complete what it failed to achieve in its first life, but those instances were rare.

He raised his arms above his head. Blood-red marks, matching those on his kimono, glowed on the backs of his hands. The power of life and death, the power over the soul, swirled about and through him, and a small part of his mind not consumed by his spell wondered if this demon who lay before him had yet to find peace in the other world. It seemed unlikely, but then, that demon had been a difficult character to understand. Perhaps he had found his peace.

The more time that passed after death, the further from the boundary between worlds the soul moved, sinking deeper into the world of the dead.

And the more difficult it was to call that soul back to the living once again.

_Come,_ he thought, sending out his call through the boundary between worlds, using the body before him as the link. _Come . . . return to this world. You are needed, my brother._

Power flowed in his veins, pulsing through him, and he needed every drop of it for this task. Again, he sent a thundering command into the world of the dead. _I, the Gyazaseishou, summon you to return to this world, to live and breathe and walk among the living once again. Heed my call, brother of the fang._

In the physical world, so far detached from his consciousness, the wind howled and sky darkened. The bones before him began to glow with an eerie blue light.

_I summon you._

The very earth trembled beneath him, but he took no heed, absorbed in his task, the conduit between life and death, between two worlds—as he called out to a soul two hundred years gone from the world of the living. He dragged forth every vestige of his power.

_I summon you._

Light flared forth, consuming the skeleton, obscuring everything with its brilliance. He began to channel power into the body, fueling the regeneration of flesh and blood to recreate the body that would house the soul as it flowed along his call, drawn irresistibly by his command.

_I summon you._

With an explosion of light, the soul burst forth, hovering for a moment above the gently glowing form of its body before descending to once again become one with its flesh. Pulsing with the beat of a heart, the light throbbed, then diminished, slowly fading as the body absorbed its soul.

There were many ways to resurrect the dead. To call the soul back to dead flesh, to manipulate the reanimated body like a puppet. To create a new body, made of human remains and graveyard soil, and to return the soul to that body made of earth. To use the power of the Shikon no Tama or another such relic to recreate the semblance of life in a dead being. There were others, more complicated, more difficult, but equally fraudulent. That was not true life, a true resurrection. There were only two beings, aside from the gods, in any world, in any plane of existence, with that power.

One was the Gyazaseishou. And the other, the other was the one who bore the sword of healing, Tenseiga.

He watched, his expression unreadable, as the last of the light faded, and the body before him took its first breath in over two hundred years. During the course of the resurrection, the demon had assumed its everyday form, much smaller than that of the skeleton, a form similar to that of a human. A form so familiar it brought an ache to his heart to behold.

The resurrected demon knelt on the ground, eyes wide and unseeing as he gasped the stale air of the strange dimension where they currently existed. The Gyazaseishou waited.

Slowly, the demon regained his senses, his eyes filling with sharp intelligence, his muscles flexing with strength long forgotten. After a moment, he brought his body under his control and stood, studying his surroundings. Then he studied the demon standing before him. His golden eyes narrowed with the unspoken question, the undeniable demand.

The Gyazaseishou took a step forward, watching the demon, his heart aching. He then dropped to one knee and bowed low in respect and apology.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Inutaisho," he said softly. "Forgive me."

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**A/N:**

Could it be? Yes, it is! I have begun a new story on FFnet! Yes, a multiple-chapter story!

I finally realized that I would never _have_ time for fanfiction anymore, and that I would have to _make_ time. So this is my experiment to see if that is actually possible. Please have patience with my sporadic updates. I will do my best to update no less than two times a month, though I'm hoping for more than that. We'll see how it goes.

To my past readers (if there are any left at this point...), I'm really looking forward to finding out who's still around—and whether any of said readers gives a whoop that I'm back, heh. For any new readers, I hope you don't mind my rambling author's notes and death-threat-inspiring cliffhangers.

And to everyone, I hope you enjoy!

On a more relevant-to-the-chapter-I-just-posted note, "Inutaisho" is my final decision on a name for Inuyasha and Sesshomaru's father, since I couldn't find any definitive ruling on the proper form(s) of address.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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**Chapter 2**

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"Well, that's not something you see every day."

Kagome nodded in silent agreement with Miroku's dry statement. It wasn't something she'd ever seen before either.

Stretched before them was a huge, sprawling field that had once been farmland for the nearby villages. Now it was a graveyard. As far as the eye could see, there were the bodies of dead soldiers, slain in battle. Carrion birds swarmed everywhere, making the mass of bodies seem to writhe, and the buzz of insects was almost deafening. The stench alone was suffocating.

But it wasn't like they'd never seen the aftermath of a battle, as horrifying as it was. Many times they'd come across human remains like this. But this time there was one key thing that was different.

The souls of the dead, glowing with eerie bluish light, hovered over the slaughter.

"Why haven't their souls departed?" Kagome asked quietly.

Inuyasha, on her other side, sniffed the air, then almost gagged. "I don't smell any demons, but I can't pick up much through this reek."

Sango turned her face away. "Why won't the souls move on? They shouldn't be here like this."

Kagome's hands tightened into fists. This was awful, horrible beyond words. To have your soul forever trapped, chained to the place of your death . . .

Miroku shook his head. "This is beyond my knowledge. I have never seen anything like this before."

Shippo whimpered softly. "What'll happen if their souls don't leave?"

The monk lifted one hand in silent prayer. "Then they will never pass onto the next world, and they will never know peace in the afterlife."

Kagome loosened her fingers before her nails cut into her palms. "We have to do something. We have to _help_."

But how?

They were traveling, like usual, in search of jewel shards and Naraku. It had been some time since they'd come across any hint of the foul demon, but then, that wasn't very odd. Naraku, they had discovered early on, enjoyed disappearing for weeks at a time, leaving them to flounder around helplessly. They had been following a vague rumour of strange disturbances in the north when Inuyasha had caught the scent of death that had led them here.

Inuyasha let out a low growl as he closed his fist around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "I bet it's Naraku. What's that bastard up t—"

He broke off with a yelp, jerking his hand away from Tetsusaiga's hilt.

"Inuyasha, what's wrong?" Kagome asked as he stared at his sword.

Miroku stepped up on the hanyou's other side. "Inuyasha?"

He blinked and looked up. "Tetsusaiga . . . it just shocked me or something."

"Shocked you? What do you mean?"

Carefully, Inuyasha wrapped his fingers around the sword's handle then quickly pulled his hand back. He stared at the sword as if it had turned into a snake.

"Inuyasha," Kagome asked worriedly, "what is it?"

"It's hot. The hilt is hot."

Kagome blinked, then reached out a finger and brushed it over the hilt. Cool metal met her touch. "It feels normal to me."

Miroku, Sango, and Shippo touched the sword as well, all reporting that it felt as it should. Inuyasha tried again.

"It's still hot, like I just pulled it out of a fire," he said with a frown, pulling his hand away and rubbing his fingertips over his palm.

Shippo leaped onto Inuyasha's shoulder, staring down at the weapon. "Maybe it's sick."

Kagome turned and stared. Inuyasha gave the kitsune a killing look. "It's a _sword_. It can't get _sick_."

Miroku, however, was frowning. "Well, it's not exactly a normal sword. Maybe it _is_ sick, and has a fever. Who knows?"

Inuyasha threw his arms up in disgust. "You've got to be kidding me!" he bellowed. "Swords. Don't. Get. Sick."

"Inuyasha," Kagome soothed, "calm down. Maybe it's something else. Have you noticed anything else strange from it lately?"

Inuyasha growled softly. "No."

Kagome's breath caught as a thought occurred to her. Could the sword be reacting to the souls in the field?

"What could it be?" Miroku asked, his narrowed eyes sweeping from the battlefield back to the Tetsusaiga as though he'd had the exact same thought as her.

Inuyasha brushed his hand over the sword again, his frown deepening. "Still hot," he muttered.

Kagome frowned as well, absently nibbling on a fingernail. What was going on? First, souls that wouldn't leave their dead hosts, and now the Tetsusaiga was acting bizarre. Could it be connected? If so, then how?

Inuyasha, still muttering to himself, started to walk away.

"Hey, Inuyasha, where are you going?" Kagome called, running to catch up with him.

"I'm going to see Totosai. Where else?"

Miroku, Sango, and Shippo quickly caught up as well.

"That's a good idea, Inuyasha," Miroku said. "If anyone knows what's wrong with sword, it'll be Totosai, the very man who forged it. But aren't we forgetting something?" The monk pointed back to the softly glowing slaughterhouse behind them. "What about those souls?"

"There's nothing we can do about that right now," Inuyasha replied sourly. "Do you know how to send souls to Heaven or Hell, or wherever they go? I don't think that walking up to them and telling them it's time to get going is gonna work."

Miroku sighed and nodded.

Sango hefted her weapon higher up on her shoulder. "But should we really just leave them there? It doesn't feel right."

Inuyasha grunted. "Well, knowing the coward, Myoga's probably hiding out with Totosai. We'll ask him what he knows when we get there."

The others nodded. Kagome bit her bottom lip, glancing back over her shoulder at the glowing battlefield. She had a very bad feeling about this. She just hoped Myoga would have some answers for them.

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Something did not smell right in the air.

Sesshomaru came to a stop on the rocky mountain path he, Rin, Jaken, and Aoun where currently traversing. Again, he scented the air, searching for the tang that was so out of place. There, again. So faint, but unmistakable.

The scent of death.

Sesshomaru felt a frown tighten his face. That was not right. How could the smell of death reach him here? The wind was blowing down from the top of the mountain where no life could survive. Even if something had died up there, the scent would either be much stronger or nonexistent, as the body would have frozen in minutes up in those snowy, winter-locked heights. It was almost as though . . .

It was almost as though the scent of death was emanating from the air itself.

No, that was not right either. It could not be right. Sesshomaru sniffed again, a flicker of unease filtering through his emotions. Again, death hung on the edge of every scent. What did it mean?

Something was wrong, very wrong. But what was the source, what was the cause?

"Lord Sesshomaru?" Jaken asked from behind him. Rin was watching him anxiously. "My Lord, is something the matter?"

For another moment, Sesshomaru stared into the wind, his hair whipping out behind him in silver streams. Without thought, moving on some stray impulse or instinct, he closed his hand around Tenseiga's hilt.

The sword was hot.

Releasing the weapon, Sesshomaru began walking, his stride quick and purposeful. He didn't know what was happening or what it portended, or even if Tenseiga and the scent of death in the air were connected, but he knew that neither boded well.

And something told him he was already running out of time to unravel both mysteries.

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**A/N:**

Thanks so much for the warm welcome from my past readers! Thanks for letting me know you're still out there; it makes a big difference to me knowing that you waited through my months and months of hiatus and poor excuses to support me again. Thank you!

I'm delighted to meet new readers too! For those of you who don't know me, I almost always write a long-winded author's note, and even occasionally have something relevant to say. You might also like to know that I read all my reviews, and will reply to questions if I can get your contact info.

Speaking of answering questions, I was asked if this story is a continuation of the _Secret Love, Secret Power_ and _Fatal Lies, Forsaken Hearts_ saga. In answer, no, it is not. This is an independent story set, as suggested in this chapter, somewhere in the middle of the Inuyasha anime (I don't have access to the manga). It's a little more canon than SLSP and FLFH in that I haven't tossed in any unexpected powers...that I'm planning on, at least.

Lastly, I want to address the issue of the Inuyasha movies. I confess I am drawing on the third movie for some Inutaisho history; however, that is the extent of my interest in the movies. Yeah, they were entertaining, but they aren't canon as I define it. So, though I will throughout the story be referring to the Inutaisho's interactions with Sesshomaru and Izayoi (Inuyasha's mother) from the third movie, I am not including any of that nonsense about a third sword and visions of the Inutaisho popping out of a hell portal... As far as I'm concerned, those things never happened.

I hope no one minds my decision too much. Trust me on this one—the story works much better if you adopt a selective memory about the movies. And if you haven't seen the movies at all—then just ignore that whole paragraph! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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The Gatherer of Souls

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Chapter 3

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He did not rise.

He could feel the Inutaisho's eyes on him, watching, waiting, weighing. Even without looking up, he knew the dog lord's appearance, for how often had they walked together, talked together, fought together? The Inutaisho's long silver hair would be pulled back in a high ponytail, his bangs parted at a prominent widow's peak. Those, combined with the rough blue stripes—one on each side—that ran down his cheeks, would draw one's gaze to his intense golden eyes.

He would be wearing a white kimono and hakama, patterned with blue, almost entirely covered by his armour; interlocking, metal plates, adorned with spikes, would cover his shoulders and upper arms. Arm plates bound just above his wrists would protect his lower arms. Black leather-like armour would cover his torso and thighs, with a sash of purple and red bound around his waist in graceful loops. His cloak of white fur would hang from his shoulders, split halfway down to form two tails at his back. The Gyazaseishou could see it so clearly in his mind's eyes, though in fact, all he could see were the dog lord's feet, bound in black.

A blur of movement. The dog demon knelt beside him, one hand reaching out to grip his shoulder.

"You are my friend, closer to me than a brother, Zairin." The Inutaisho's strong, deep voice was so painfully familiar, had been so deeply missed. "You need not beg my forgiveness."

A knife in his heart could have hurt no less. The Gyazaseishou shook his head slowly. "Ah, Nii-chan. I have pulled you from peaceful death and thrown you back into this wretched world. I had no right, but I knew not what else to do."

The Inutaisho gave Zairin's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Tell me."

The Gyazaseishou sighed with poignant regret. "The time has come again, Nii-chan. The five-hundredth year is upon us, and the lunar eclipse will fall on the next full moon."

The Inutaisho was quiet for a moment lasting an eternity. "How long has it been, Zairin?"

The Gyazaseishou raised his head slowly, looking into the sad, steady golden eyes of his closest friend. "Two hundred years."

"Then . . . Izayoi?"

"I am sorry, Nii-chan, but she died long ago."

The Inutaisho bowed his head in grief. Zairin placed his hand over his friend's and said gently, "You knew that she would pass to where human souls reside in the other world. Your time together was only in this world, and she knew that as well." He touched his other hand to the dog demon's bowed head. "I guided her soul across the boundary myself, Nii-chan. She asked me to tell you whenever I was to see you again that she would always love you, and that she was sorry."

The Inutaisho's head came up, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Sorry? For what was she sorry?"

The Gyazaseishou shifted uncomfortably, then looked away. "Your last words to her . . . you asked her to live long. But . . . she died shortly after you, Nii-chan. Less than a decade passed before she followed you to the other world."

The Inutaisho's eyes closed with renewed despair. "Then . . . then Inuyasha . . ."

"No," Zairin said sharply. The Inutaisho's eyes flew open again. "Your second son still lives, Nii-chan. So does Sesshomaru."

The dog lord pressed a hand over his eyes. "They live." His deep voice was husky with relief.

After a moment, Zairin shifted to sit beside the Inutaisho on the cold, barren ground. "Nii-chan . . . I brought you back because the time draws near . . . and there is no one else strong enough to fight the battle and win."

The Inutaisho studied the Gyazaseishou's face. "Sesshomaru and Inuyasha . . .?"

Zairin looked away. "Sesshomaru would fight, if only to save his own life . . . but he was never your equal, as you both know. And Inuyasha . . ." He was silent for a long moment, his dark eyes solemn. He wished he did not have to be the one to speak the words that the Inutaisho needed to hear. "I know not what you expected, Nii-chan, but your second son _is_ a half-demon. Emotional, rash, unpredictable . . . and physically and mentally inferior as demons go. Even with the Tetsusaiga . . ."

The silence was long and heavy before the Inutaisho spoke. "You've met him? You know him?"

"Not since he was a child," Zairin replied softly. "I have not seen him since Izayoi died. He would not even remember me."

"Then how do you know what he's like?" The Inutaisho's voice was hard. He did not take well to anyone, even his closest friend, speaking ill of his son.

"I have spoken with Totosai, who keeps in touch with Myoga. The flea, as you commanded, watches over Inuyasha. What I know is, I admit, third-hand information." Zairin turned his dark, riveting gaze on the Inutaisho, not allowing the dog lord to hide from the truth. "But Inuyasha is a half-demon. You knew when he was conceived that he would never have the strength of a full-blooded dog demon."

The Inutaisho gaze was unreadable as he looked out over the desolate landscape. "Even you should know, Zairin, that there is more to strength than physical prowess."

The Gyazaseishou nodded gravely. "Alas, that I know very well. Do not mistake my intent, Nii-chan. I seek not to belittle your son in your eyes. Inuyasha may be strong in other ways, but that has yet to be discovered by either of us. However, my point is this: that strength, which he may or may not possess, is _not enough_. Not for this."

Zairin waited until the Inutaisho nodded reluctantly. "Even if Sesshomaru and Inuyasha would work together, combining the powers of Tenseiga and Tetsusaiga, there is still little hope it will be sufficient."

The Inutaisho frowned. "What do you mean, 'even if' they would work together? Surely they could put aside any ill feelings for something such as this?"

Zairin sighed. "If it were any others, then I would say yes, but not those two. You knew Sesshomaru's attitude towards your involvement with Izayoi from the beginning. If anything, those feelings have only multiplied when it comes to Inuyasha. The chasm between them could not be breached by the most urgent crisis."

The Inutaisho sighed with deep regret. "I had feared it would be so."

"Indeed. The atrocities they have committed against each other in their hatred are beyond forgiving. Sesshomaru's contempt of Inuyasha turned the young one against his brother from the moment he could understand it. Sesshomaru has done naught but shun his brother. And once the Tetsusaiga became involved . . ."

"Sesshomaru was not pleased with his inheritance." It was not a question.

"That would be stating it mildly. Sesshomaru's bitterness over what he perceives as a slight has burned strong through all these years. Then, when he discovered that you had left the powerful Tetsusaiga to none other than Inuyasha, his rage shook the very earth. When he found that with the barrier you had prevented him from ever being able to wield the sword, he turned his wrath on Inuyasha. The battle, I have heard, was fearsome. Sesshomaru even went so far as to transform, knowing Inuyasha was incapable of doing the same."

The Inutaisho's eyes were sad and filled with worry. "But Inuyasha survived?"

"Indeed he did. He wielded the Tetsusaiga in his defense, and defeated Sesshomaru for the first time. But that . . . Sesshomaru will never forgive that."

The Inutaisho sighed. "Sesshomaru was never graceful in defeat."

"That's not what I meant." Zairin shifted uncomfortably under the dog lord's firm gaze. "In that battle, Sesshomaru . . . lost his left arm to Tetsusaiga's bite."

The Inutaisho abruptly turned away, head bowed. The Gyazaseishou looked out over the desolate landscape, allowing the dog demon his privacy.

_How cruel am I to call him back this way, to show him how all he hoped for upon his death has failed, that everything he feared would transpire in his absence has occurred?_

"Please forgive me, Nii-chan, for bringing you back to endure this pain." The Gyazaseishou bowed his head beneath his own suffering.

"No, Zairin, I . . . I needed to know, however painful it is to hear." The Inutaisho's voice was gruff with sorrow and regret. "You did what you had to."

Zairin's head sank lower. "I do not deserve your forgiveness."

The Inutaisho shook his head, regaining his composure. "Do not be foolish, Zairin. It is unbecoming of you to wallow in self-pity."

The Gyazaseishou's eyes flashed as anger seared through him. He raised his head. A reluctant smile curved his lips. "I have missed you, Nii-chan. No one but you was ever so pompously arrogant as to say such to me."

The Inutaisho, too, smiled for the first time. "Ah, but Zairin, if I did not say it, then who would?"

The Gyazaseishou shook his head. "But our problems will not disappear with a smile, Nii-chan. Will you reclaim Tenseiga and Tetsusaiga, and fight one last battle?"

The Inutaisho's expression sobered. "No, Zairin, that is not an option. Neither sword will answer to me now."

The Gyazaseishou jerked, something close to horror flickering through his dark eyes. "What? How so?"

"Tenseiga belongs to Sesshomaru, however much my son may despise it in return. No longer will it answer to my will. And Tetsusaiga . . . I know not if it has bonded with Inuyasha, but either way, I can no longer wield it with the added barrier."

Zairin moaned, burying his face in his hands in a rare display of emotion. "Then I truly am a fool, for calling you back to this world. Forgive me, my brother."

"Do not despair as of yet, Zairin," the Inutaisho said softly. "How long is it until the full moon?"

The Gyazaseishou quickly regained his stoic calm. "A full cycle."

"Then there is still time. We must move quickly. All hope is not yet lost."

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The Gyazaseishou closed the portal behind him, permitting himself a small smile as he breathed in the clean, fresh air of the land. It was pleasant to be free from the dimension that had been the Inutaisho's grave.

Whistling sharply in summons, Zairin waited for his mount to arrive, absently fingering the fang tucked safely in his kimono. The Inutaisho's fang, to be taken to Totosai, the sword smith. A new sword for a new battle.

He would take the fang to Totosai, then search out Inuyasha. The Inutaisho would meet them in the northern mountains, the traditional training grounds of the Inu Youkai, accompanied, if all went well, by Sesshomaru. Zairin only hoped that the Inutaisho could convince Sesshomaru to come without a fight.

The Gyazaseishou recalled the Inutaisho's hesitation the moment before he had given the instructions, and he understood why.

_Nii-chan wants to meet Inuyasha, to see him, to speak with him, to know him. To, for a short time at least, be the father Inuyasha has never had._

But even with that desire at the forefront of his thoughts, the dog lord had chosen otherwise. Sesshomaru had always disliked the Gyazaseishou, simply because Zairin's presence made him uncomfortable, and that discomfort made him feel weak. With any other such demon, Sesshomaru would simply have slain him, but he was wise enough not to attempt such foolishness with the Gyazaseishou. So Sesshomaru would have nothing to do with him, preferring to avoid rather than face the one who caused him such uneasiness.

This bothered Zairin but little; he had spent his entire life being shunned by those who feared his power and presence. It did, however, mean that Zairin could not be the one to fetch Sesshomaru, which left only the Inutaisho to do it. So the Gyazaseishou would bring Inuyasha.

Zairin felt a prick of sympathy. He knew, also, why the Inutaisho was not the one searching out Inuyasha. The dog lord could have found both his sons just a quickly as Zairin could find one.

The Inutaisho was afraid. What father wouldn't be, to face the son he had never met, the son who might hate him for having not been there? The Inutaisho was afraid that Inuyasha would look upon his father and see only a stranger—or worse, an enemy. The Inutaisho was not a coward, not by far. He would face Inuyasha, and he would accept whatever came of it. But he needed time to prepare, to come to grips with the life he suddenly possessed again.

And it wasn't as though facing off with Sesshomaru was going to be an easy task, especially considering the dog demon's resentment over his inheritance. Truthfully, Zairin was glad it was the Inutaisho and not him who had to explain the situation to the aloof and angry Sesshomaru.

And not only that, but Zairin was pleased with the opportunity he now had to test Inuyasha's abilities away from the watchful eye of his father, and see if the hanyou truly was the fourth demon of prophecy—or just another liability.

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**A/N:**

Hello hello! Happy Thanksgiving to those of you from/living in the United States. I celebrated Thanksgiving last month with all my fellow Canadians. However, a holiday is a holiday, so I hope everyone who got to eat some turkey this weekend had a great time!

I was asked if I'm planning to continue the SLSP & FLFH saga. The answer: probably not. If I do, it will mostly likely be with the story _Wondering Hearts, Wandering Souls_, a description of which can be found on my profile page, but at this point, I'm not planning on continuing the series.

It was also mentioned that I spelled "Aoun" wrong. I did a considerable amount of research on the spelling of Sesshomaru's dragon's name way back when I first started writing fanfiction, and I chose "Aoun" because it seemed legitimate (according to what I read) and I liked the way it looked/sounded. Even if it's not the most accurate, since it's not technically wrong, I'm just going to keep it as is.

However, please don't be shy about telling me if I spell something wrong. I don't always check my Japanese spellings as carefully as I should . . .

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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The Gatherer of Souls

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**Chapter 4**

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"So you don't know _anything_, Myoga?" Inuyasha demanded in exasperation.

Miroku sighed and shook his head. This conversation was going nowhere.

It had taken them three days to get to Totosai's home. During those days, Inuyasha had reported that the Tetsusaiga was growing steadily warmer to the point where the hanyou was avoiding touching it at all. Upon arriving at the old smith's home, Inuyasha had explained the problem, and Totosai, with a great deal of muttering and scowling, had taken the blade inside his cave to examine it.

Myoga had quickly found them—or found Inuyasha's blood, to be specific—and they had swiftly described what they had seen, but the flea seemed to know nothing of why it had happened or how to fix it.

"As I've already stated, milord, I haven't any idea why those particular souls would not have passed on. I must say though, this does not bode well."

That caught Miroku's attention. "What do you mean, Myoga?"

The small man crossed his arms and stared at Inuyasha's knee upon which he was standing. "I seem to recall a mention of something like this from centuries ago—even before the Shikon no Tama came into existence. But . . . it was such a long time ago, I can't remember anymore."

"Myoga! Come on!" Inuyasha snarled.

"Please, Myoga, think hard," Kagome begged softly, still visibly disturbed by the souls they had seen on that battlefield. "Can't you remember anything?"

The flea closed his eyes, his face scrunching up in thought. For a long time, he didn't move. "I can almost remember . . . it's a poem that talks about when souls don't move on . . . when they don't fade away . . ." The flea trailed off.

" 'When souls forget to fade, then shall every life be weighed. On the night the moon goes black, only the strongest four can end the attack.' "

Every head whipped around to stare at Totosai, who had just come out of his cave-house.

The old man blinked. "Do I have something on my face?" he asked, lifting one hand to rub his pointed nose.

"What did you just say, Totosai?" Myoga asked tersely.

"Who me?" The old man scratched his head. "Did I say something? Don't seem to . . . was it something interesting?"

With a scowl, Inuyasha jumped up and brought his fist down hard on the old man's head. "You had better remember right this second, you senile old codger, or I'll crack your skull open and take a look myself!"

Whimpering, the old man cowered behind Sango. "It's only a bit of poetry I remembered when I heard Myoga mention souls that won't fade. It seems to me it went along the lines of, 'when souls forget to fade, then shall every life be weighed. On the night the moon goes black, only the strongest four can end the attack'. Or was it the strongest three? Or . . . five? Can't quite remember now. It's been _centuries_ since I heard it mentioned." He blinked again. "Now what're you all staring at?"

Miroku's hands tightened into fists. This did not sound good at all. He looked at Myoga. "Is that what you were trying to remember?"

The flea nodded. "Exactly that."

"So what does it mean?"

"I have no idea."

"What?!" everyone shouted at once.

The little demon cringed. "I never did understand it. I heard it so long ago . . . It was when your father was your age or thereabouts, Inuyasha."

The hanyou blinked. "My father?"

"Indeed," Totosai interrupted. "It was quite a long time ago indeed. I still remember when old Zairin told me about the prophecy."

"Prophecy?" Sango asked. "What prophecy?"

Totosai stared at her. "Prophecy? Who said anything about a prophecy?"

"You did!" Inuyasha roared.

"I did? . . . Oh yes, I did, didn't I? Yes, that's what Zairin said—a prophecy that came around about every . . . was it five hundred years? Or seven hundred?"

"Who's this 'Zairin'?" Kagome asked.

"Who now?"

"Totosai," Inuyasha growled warningly.

"Yes?"

"Who's Zairin?" Kagome asked quickly, before Inuyasha started breaking bones.

"Zairin? Why, he's the Gyazaseishou! Don't you youngsters know anything?"

"Gyaza . . . seishou? What the hell is that?" Inuyasha demanded.

"The Gyazaseishou," Myoga answered, "is none other than the Gatherer of Souls!"

Miroku was the only one who gasped in surprised recognition. He had thought the Gatherer of Souls was merely a legend . . .

"Ah, you must have heard of ol' Zairin then, eh, monk?" Totosai rambled, noting Miroku's surprise. "A great friend of your father, Inuyasha. He and Zairin were inseparable from pretty much the moment they met. Poor fellow was melancholy for _decades_, nigh on a century, after the great dog demon's death. Mind you, he's melancholy most of the time anyways, so that's not saying a whole lot . . ."

"My father . . . and this 'Gatherer of Souls' . . . were _friends_?"

"It's true!" Myoga piped up. "They were as close as brothers right until the end. In fact, it was none other than Lord Zairin who found you after your mother died, Lord Inuyasha. Didn't quite know what to do with you, if I remember correctly. The Master had wanted to name Lord Zairin your godfather, but the Gyazaseishou is not the kind of demon who would make a good parent, I know that much, living between worlds as he does . . ."

"Between worlds?" Kagome echoed. "What is a Gatherer of Souls anyways?"

Miroku was the one to answer. "There is only one Gatherer of Souls. He is a being with the power to walk among both the living and dead, and he spends all eternity traveling the world and guiding lost souls to the netherworld. Or so the legends say. I never knew the Gatherer even existed, let alone was actually a demon."

"Well, you do have some of it right, Miroku," Myoga explained. "The Gyazaseishou is indeed a demon, and he does gather the souls of the departed and show them the path to the other world. But he isn't immortal, and he will eventually have a successor to continue his task, one who will be marked with the symbol of life and death."

"Yes, that's kind of hard to miss," Totosai interrupted thoughtfully. "Like a tattoo on the backs of the hands, it is . . ."

"Lord Zairin, however," Myoga continued, ignoring Totosai, "is still well in his prime and won't need a successor for centuries to come—he's somewhat younger than your father, Lord Inuyasha. But the power to guide souls is only one of the Gyazaseishou's gifts. He can reach any plane of this world, including other dimensions. In actuality, it was Zairin who aided me in hiding the Tetsusaiga in your father's remains, and creating the black pearl to hide the portal." The flea turned to Totosai. "Wasn't it he who moved the Master's remains to that dimension in the first place?"

Totosai shrugged. "Couldn't say. Zairin's pretty closemouthed most of the time. Wouldn't talk about it. Only person he ever really talked to was the Master."

"Very true," Myoga agreed. "Anyways, the Gyazaseishou also has power over life and death. With the power of death, he can pull a person's soul right from their body—he doesn't even have to touch them! And of course, you die shortly after losing your soul, so that's definitely something to be reckoned with. And he also has the power of life, the ability to bring a soul back from the dead. Truly amazing, isn't it?"

"Unbelievable," Sango breathed. "One demon having so much power?"

"Ah, well, the Gyazaseishou has his own limits to work around," Totosai rambled on. "On one occasion, I asked him to bring a pupil of mine back to life after he died of fever. Quite a talented student, if I recall. Absolutely divine at forging daggers, it seems to me. I was most distraught to lose him at the time, as he was in the middle of making a truly magnificent hunting knife for a demon of the Fire Clans of the south . . . Oh yes. Anyways, old Zairin refused, warning me that if he returned life to people whenever he wanted, he'd tear the boundary between the netherworld and ours, and the whole world and everyone in it would be sucked into the land of the dead."

Everyone stared. Myoga cleared his throat. "Well, Lord Zairin is a very responsible individual. He would never do anything that would endanger all life in this world. In fact, I think he was exaggerating a tad when he spoke to Totosai." The flea glanced at the old demon. "He never did like you. Said it was because you got on his nerves."

"I wonder why . . ." Inuyasha muttered sarcastically.

"If you recall, Myoga, he doesn't like you either," Totosai remarked slyly.

The flea scowled for a moment. "He doesn't like _anyone _. . . Anyways, it was the Gyazaseishou who helped the Master create the Tenseiga, wasn't it Totosai?"

"Indeed it was. Old Zairin was reluctant to give that much power to a sword that could fall into the hands of just anyone, but the Master insisted, so Zairin was the one who gave the sword it's awareness—the ability to decide whether or not to bring a soul back. It's still susceptible to the will of the user, of course, but it was a safeguard at least."

"Zairin was unhappy with Master's decision to bequeath the sword to Sesshomaru, wasn't he? Thought it would be mistreated."

"Yes, he wanted—"

"Do you think we can get back to the matter at hand?" Inuyasha snapped.

"Ah yes. Tell us what else you remember of when Lord Zairin quoted you that prophecy," Myoga prompted.

"Er . . . don't remember a thing. Sorry."

Inuyasha raised a fist.

"Well, actually, come to think of it, I don't think Zairin was 'quoting' the prophecy, per se. I think he's the one who created it. He always was a quiet fellow . . . wouldn't be surprised if there was a poet lurking under that gloomy face!"

Myoga jumped up and down in sudden agitation. "Lord Zairin prophesized the doom of all living beings? Are you certain, Totosai?"

"Not at all, Myoga. It just seems to me that old Zairin created the prophecy on his own. Can't really say why . . ."

Inuyasha scowled. "You're useless, did you know that, old man?"

"Who, me? What'd I say?"

Miroku frowned thoughtfully. "If we want to discover the reason for those souls not departing, and the meaning behind the prophecy, I think we'll have to search out this Gyazaseishou and ask him about it."

Myoga shook his head. "Lord Zairin is not . . . very helpful . . . when it comes to strangers. I doubt he would feel inclined to explain a five-hundred-year-old prophecy to just anyone. Not only that, but he's almost impossible to find. He might not even be on this plane of existence."

"Well, he did say something about heading east last time I talked to him."

Again, every head whipped around to stare at Totosai. "What?" Myoga demanded, flinging all his arms into the air. "When did you see him last?"

"See who?"

"Totosai!" everyone shouted.

"Oh, old Zairin, you mean? He was here some months ago . . . little while after you claimed the Tetsusaiga as your own, Inuyasha."

"Totosai!" Myoga reprimanded. "Why didn't you tell me about this when it happened?"

"Ah, well, you know . . . I didn't think to mention it. It simply never crossed my mind."

"What did he want? Did he say anything about the prophecy to you?"

"Well, now, let me think. He stopped by because he wanted his weapons sharpened—the twin blades, Teitaisendo and Kataisendo. Magnificent swords, I must say, though forged long before my time. Those swords have been passed down from Gyazaseishou to Gyazaseishou for over a millennium. And to see Zairin wield them in battle—oh what a treat that is!"

"Indeed!" Myoga chimed in, prophecy forgotten yet again. "He has true talent with a sword, though he doesn't have the same kind of overwhelming physical strength such as the Master had. But Lord Zairin, seeing him fight is something else entirely. Like watching a deadly dance." The flea actually shivered with delighted wonder.

"Can we get back on topic? _Again_?" Inuyasha snapped.

Miroku shook his head with a lopsided smile, not knowing what he wanted more—to hear such interesting tales about a legendary demon, or to find out more about the prophecy.

"Well, as I was saying, Zairin stopped by to get his swords sharpened. He asked about you, Inuyasha, wanted to you how you were doing, then was on his way. He only mentioned in passing that he was going east. Never said why. He's not a very talkative fellow . . . I think I mentioned that already, didn't I?"

Inuyasha's expression was strange as he hesitantly asked, "If he's so interested in me, why's he never come to see me before?"

Myoga sat down and crossed his arms. "The Gyazaseishou, by necessity, is a solitary being. Because of the nature of his power, he is feared by most—his very aura is unsettling! Lord Zairin in particular . . . it's very sad. His own family abandoned him as a child when he was found to have the mark of the Gyazaseishou. He spent his entire life alone until your father befriended him. The Master was the only one he ever really connected with."

Kagome's eyes were tear-bright. "How awful," she whispered, "to be rejected by your own parents, and to have to spend your entire life alone because of what you are . . ."

Looking at Inuyasha's downcast face, Miroku thought that maybe this Zairin would find he had more in common with Inuyasha than one might think.

"Old Zairin . . . he avoids other people," Totosai said quietly, uncharacteristically somber. "Thinks to save himself the unpleasantness of being feared and rejected by every person he meets. Myoga and I have known him for centuries, and we still only know what he allows us to know about him and his life." The old man paused, then cackled. "Most mysterious, he is! Would be quite the hit with the ladies if his aura didn't make your skin crawl."

Kagome sniffled. "So, Inuyasha's father was his only friend, the only one who wasn't afraid of him . . . and after he died, Zairin had no one."

"A sad story," Myoga said softly.

They all sat in silence for a long moment, staring into the dancing flames of the fire.

"Hey, Totosai!" Inuyasha demanded loudly, causing everyone to jump. "Did you figure out what's wrong with Tetsusaiga?"

"Tetsusaiga?" The old demon looked down at the sword he was still holding. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Old man . . ." Inuyasha growled threateningly.

"Oh yes, I examined it before I came out! Yes, I did!"

"And? Did you find out what's wrong with it?"

"Not at all!"

"What?" Inuyasha looked flabbergasted. It was clear he had believed unshakably that Totosai would be able to fix it.

"Well, by itself, there's nothing actually _wrong_ with it. It's just, it _shouldn't_ be happening . . ."

Inuyasha looked wary. "What do you mean?"

"Hem, well . . . The only times Tetsusaiga's blade ever began to heat were when the great dog demon himself was nearby."

The silence that greeted the old man's statement was heavier than a mountain.

"What?" Inuyasha finally demanded.

"I said, the only times Tet—"

"I heard what you said! I wanna know what you mean!"

"Well, quite simply, the only other times I've known the blade to heat were when the Master was near the sword, but not actually carrying it himself. Tenseiga does the same thing. I believe it has something to do with the fact that the blades were forged from the Master's own fangs."

Myoga frowned thoughtfully. "But why would Tetsusaiga act up now? The Master has been dead and gone for over two hundred years."

"Indeed. The sword's behaviour must be stemming from something else, wouldn't you say, Myoga?"

Inuyasha glared at the two demons. "I don't care _why_. Just make it stop!"

"There's nothing I can do about it, Inuyasha," Totosai replied unhelpfully. "This might well be one of those things you need to discover for yourself."

Inuyasha snarled. Miroku winced inwardly. He could well imagine what Inuyasha was thinking. Probably something along the lines of, "blathering, useless old men!"

"What you need to do now is search out Lord Zairin and discover the meaning of the prophecy and what it portends, milord!" Myoga exclaimed, waving all four arms in the air.

"And how is he supposed to find a demon who avoids people, disappears for months—even years—on end, and who might not even be in this world?!" Totosai gasped.

Myoga glared. "You're not helping, Totosai! You're the one who said he wasn't here _that_ long ago and had gone east!"

"Ohhh . . . did I really say that?"

Inuyasha swung his fist into Totosai's' head, then turned to the others. "Come on, let's get going. No point in wasting any more time . . ."

As they made their way back down Totosai's mountain, something told Miroku that they didn't have a moment more to waste.

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**A/N:**

Happy New Year!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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**Chapter 5**

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Sesshomaru stepped up in front of the ancient magnolia tree, his eyes studying the botanic face of the tree-demon, Bokusenu.

"Ah, Sesshomaru," the tree intoned. "It has been quite some time. About what have you come to speak with me?"

Sesshomaru brushed his hand over Tenseiga's hilt. The blade had grown steadily warmer over the last few days. Now, he saw, it had actually started to glow slightly.

"Tell me, Bokusenu . . . have you caught the scent of death in the air?"

"Hmm, I had wondered if that was what you had come to ask me about. Alas, I have, Sesshomaru. Not only can I smell the scent of death, but I can taste it in the air as well. I can feel it in the earth beneath my roots, in the streams and rivers, in the very earth around us."

Sesshomaru felt a tingle of apprehension run down his spine. The scent had grown stronger over the last few days. It _was_ coming from everywhere, as he'd suspected.

"What does it mean?"

The ancient tree was silent for a long moment, then closed his eyes. " 'When souls forget to fade, then shall every life be weighed. On the night the moon goes black, only the strongest four can end the attack.' "

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed.

"That is the prophecy of doom, spoken five-hundred years ago by the Gyazaseishou. It foretells the night of the lunar eclipse when the boundary between this world and Hell will rupture and all living souls will be consumed by the dead."

Sesshomaru measured the words of the prophecy, mulling it over in his head. "But there is a chance to save our world? These 'strongest four'?"

"True," the demon replied. "However, the Gyazaseishou never revealed who these four were to be. Perhaps it merely means the four strongest demons alive when the eclipse comes. I know not."

Sesshomaru considered this. "Besides myself, who would the strongest three demons be?"

Bokusenu chuckled. "Who indeed, Sesshomaru? We can only hope they will be there on the appointed night."

"Be where?" Sesshomaru asked. "Where must they be?"

"I think, Sesshomaru, that is something you must ask the Gyazaseishou."

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed to golden slits. "The Gyazaseishou who spoke the prophecy is still alive today?"

"Of course. You even know him, do you not, Sesshomaru?"

"Zairin," Sesshomaru breathed. "Do you know where I can find him, Bokusenu?"

The tree did not answer. His gaze was locked on something behind Sesshomaru, his ancient eyes wide with shock.

Tenseiga gave a throbbing pulse against Sesshomaru's hip. He could feel the heat radiating from the weapon even through the layers of material. A scent drifted to him on the soft breeze.

No . . .

"Sesshomaru."

_No_. It was not possible. That voice, that scent . . . it couldn't be. Sesshomaru slowly turned, already knowing who he would see.

"Father . . ."

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Myoga stared into the flames of Totosai's fire. The chirping of crickets and crackling of the flames were the only sounds in the silent night air. He was quite alone, for which he was grateful, giving him some time to think.

_When souls forget to fade . . ._

He had a very bad feeling about that prophecy. Something nagged him, dancing just out of reach at the back of his mind. Something he needed to know, but couldn't quite remember.

_On the night the moon goes black . . ._

Souls that wouldn't depart from this world. And, growing stronger with each passing day, was a strange hint of a scent in the air. The scent of death. The Tetsusaiga's strange behaviour as well, how did that fit into the equation?

_Then shall every life be weighed . . ._

The Gyazaseishou's warning, his prophecy. And something . . . something about the Master. But Myoga couldn't remember. Five hundred years was a long time to remember anything, let alone the details of a century-old rhyme.

_Only the strongest four can end the attack . . ._

Who were the strongest four now? Sesshomaru and Inuyasha . . . Naraku, certainly, though Myoga doubted the day would ever come when that particular demon would do anything worthwhile. Koga, perhaps? Without his jewel shards, the wolf demon was only average in strength and speed. Who then?

And, 'the night the moon goes black'? What did that mean? Was it referring to the new moon? Or an eclipse, perhaps . . .

"On the night the moon goes black," he muttered to himself, staring moodily into the dancing flames. "Only the strongest four—"

"Can end the attack."

Myoga yelled in fright, leaping six feet in the air. Landing, he whirled around. His eyes scoured the shadows for the source of the deep, melancholic voice.

And then he felt it. Something intangible seemed creep forward, to slither over his skin, to slide right through him and chill his soul. Myoga shuddered at the feel of that dark, unnerving aura. He knew who had spoken.

Without even a whisper of sound, a figure materialized out of the shadows, stepping into the light of the fire, leading a large black horse behind him.

Myoga's small eyes took in the black kimono and hakama, the matching blood-red symbols emblazoned on each sleeve, the twin sword hilts jutting up above each shoulder. Lifting his gaze, he studied the silky, midnight black hair pulled back in a waist-length braid, the porcelain-like skin, the dark, unreadable eyes.

Smothering his surprise at the appearance of the very demon they had been discussing earlier, Myoga bowed. "Gyazaseishou, it is an honour to see you again after so long."

Zairin's frozen eyes swept over the fire and campsite outside Totosai's cave.

"I cannot say the same," he replied in his quiet, almost dead-sounding voice.

Myoga inwardly winced. So, the Gatherer of Souls still harboured a keen disliking for him. He sighed.

The Gyazaseishou was a strange character, to be sure. Dark in both mind and personality, he was a very difficult person to feel any sense of affection or friendship towards. Likewise, the demon was very selective in whom he would call friend. Zairin either liked you or he didn't. And once he decided, it was almost impossible to change his mind.

And unfortunately for Myoga, from the moment he had laid eyes on the Gyazaseishou, the demon had disliked him.

Clearing his throat, Myoga forged ahead. "We were just talking about you earlier tonight, Lord Zairin."

The Gyazaseishou did not even look at Myoga. His dark eyes moved to the opening of Totosai's cave. He swept past the flea and disappeared into the shadowed opening.

Myoga sighed. He still did not know what it was that the Master had seen in the Gyazaseishou. Maybe only someone as strong as the Inutaisho could overcome or ignore the feel of Zairin's aura. It felt like the touch of death whispering down his spine. It was beyond unsettling. That, more than anything, was why people feared and avoided the Gatherer of Souls. And his frightening powers, of course.

Zairin swept out of Totosai's cave, his expression one of icy annoyance. "Where is he?" The demon's voice was cold and emotionless, revealing nothing of his thoughts. Like usual.

"Master Totosai has gone down to the stream to collect water. He'll be back shortly."

The Gyazaseishou gave a short nod, then moved over to his mount, rubbing a gentle hand over the demon horse's muzzle. Myoga shifted nervously, then plunged in head first.

"Lord Zairin, the prophecy you spoke of when you arrived, is that not _your_ prophecy? The one you predicted centuries ago?"

The Gyazaseishou paused for a moment, then slowly turned, searing Myoga's soul with his midnight eyes.

"What about it?" His voice was softly malevolent, his eyes colder than the dead of winter.

Myoga trembled slightly, but didn't back down. At least Zairin was talking to him. "Are the events you prophesized approaching?"

For a long moment, the Gyazaseishou said nothing. "The time of the prophecy is upon us. The doom of all life lies just beyond the horizon. Enjoy your life while you have it, flea."

Myoga blinked. That was a lot of words for Zairin, who rarely even spoke in complete sentences. His words were, however, not in the least bit reassuring.

"But in the prophecy, you spoke of the four warriors who would save us, didn't you?"

The Gyazaseishou turned back to his mount. "No one will be saving _you_, pest," he replied tonelessly.

Myoga sighed heavily, knowing that he would get no more information out of the demon. Zairin was more stubborn than Inuyasha when it came to being closemouthed and reticent.

"Ah, well if isn't ol' Zairin! Just the man we need right now!"

Myoga turned to watch Totosai enter the circle of light.

Zairin glanced over his shoulder at the sword smith. "Should you continue to call me 'old', I'll rip your tongue out and feed it to my horse."

"My, talkative today, are you? Glad to hear it," Totosai remarked, swinging his giant hammer from one hand to the other. "Inuyasha and his companions just left earlier today in search of you."

Zairin turned to face Totosai. For a moment, Myoga caught a glimpse of surprise in the demon's dark gaze before his face resumed its typical bland expression.

"Inuyasha searches for me?" he asked, his voice empty, divulging nothing of his emotions.

"Indeed he does!" Totosai exclaimed. "Came to us with a strange story about a bloody battlefield where the souls still hovered above their former bodies. I mentioned the prophecy, and they all ran off to search you out! . . . It seems they went the wrong way, though, if they missed you . . ."

The Gyazaseishou's expression was unreadable, as usual, but after a moment, he moved to sit on a log in front of the fire.

"Tell me of Inuyasha, flea."

Myoga blinked. The Gyazaseishou's voice was always cool and emotionless, and inflections were difficult to determine in his speech. Myoga couldn't tell if the demon was merely curious, or had some other motivation behind the question. "Of course . . . is there anything in particular you wish to know?"

"His skill in battle."

Myoga's brow wrinkled, but he shrugged and did as bidden. "Inuyasha, compared to most demons, is powerful and very skilled in battle. However, when one compares him to, for example, Sesshomaru, he comes in a poor second."

Zairin's dark eyes flashed with an emotion Myoga couldn't name. The flea frowned, unsettled by the Gyazaseishou's sudden, inexplicable interest in Inuyasha.

"As I'd expected . . ." the demon said softly to himself.

"Ah, but do not judge too quickly, Lord Zairin! Inuyasha may not be the most powerful demon by himself, but when he wields the Tetsusaiga, he is truly a force to be reckoned wi—"

"Come now, Myoga!" Totosai interrupted. "Don't you think you're exaggerating a trifle? Compared to the Master, Inuyasha wields the Tetsusaiga with all the skill and grace as an old woman with a cane!"

"That's hardly fair, Totosai! Has Inuyasha not mastered both the Wind Scar _and_ the Backlash Wave? He has bested Sesshomaru in battle more than once, and he even killed Ryukotsusei!"

Totosai opened his mouth to retort, but Zairin cut him off.

"What of his character?"

Confused and a little worried now about the Gyazaseishou's insistent curiosity, Myoga shrugged again. Zairin's loyalty to the Inutaisho had been unquestionable, but now that the Master was gone, Myoga wasn't sure if he could trust the demon.

"Inuyasha is a lot like his father, but then, he's a lot like his mother too. He's aggressive, hotheaded, and stubborn to the extreme. He's determined and courageous, but not terribly bright. And he also has a soft side, human emotions he inherited from his mother—though he denies it with every breath."

Myoga shook his head slowly. "Inuyasha . . . he's had a hard life—like you, Lord Zairin. He doesn't trust easily, and he's quick to take offense. He's insecure about his own strength, and feels pressured to live up to his father's legacy."

"Inuyasha tries very hard," Totosai added solemnly. "He wants to be strong, like the Master. He tries and tries, and despairs that he cannot achieve that strength which will always be beyond his capabilities."

The Gyazaseishou's black eyes were unfathomable as he rose to his feet. "I will go to Inuyasha, if he so desires to speak with me. But first . . ."

The demon turned, pinning Totosai with his intense, midnight eyes. "I have a task for you, sword smith."

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Myoga stared into the fire once again. His mind had stuttered to a halt, and two words kept spinning around in his head, repeating over and over.

_He's alive. He's alive. He's alive._

Myoga wanted nothing more than to run and jump and leap as fast as he could until he could once again behold his Master's face, hear his voice, feel his touch. But he remained at Totosai's, commanded by the Gyazaseishou to wait for his return. Three days, the Gatherer had said. Three days for Totosai to complete his task. Three days before they went to meet the Master after two hundred years.

Myoga did not know what task Totosai had been given. Zairin had made sure Myoga could not eavesdrop by creating a barrier of dark magic in the entrance to the sword smith's cave. When Myoga asked Totosai, the demon had refused to say, but had seemed both excited and upset. Myoga didn't understand.

It was so incomprehensible. The Inutaisho, brought back to life after two centuries to fulfill a prophecy. Myoga could hardly believe it. Zairin, who was so committed to keeping balance in the worlds, to not misusing his formidable power, had broken almost every single rule of his and the gods' to bring back one demon. The Inutaisho was essential to the prophecy. Without him, it would fail, or so the Gyazaseishou had said.

Now Zairin had gone to 'speak' with Inuyasha. Myoga, however, suspected that Zairin believed—or hoped—that Inuyasha was also a member of the prophecy. So, the strongest four would be the Inutaisho, his two sons, and the Gyazaseishou himself. What a battle it would be.

But something nagged at Myoga, that something he still couldn't quite remember. He knew more than ever now that it was important, but the details still kept slipping away every time he came close to remembering. It was beyond frustrating.

Sighing, the tiny demon resigned himself to wait, knowing that the next three days would be among the longest of this life.

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**A/N:**

Sorry for the late update. I've been busy with classes and keep forgetting that I need to work on it… *sweat*


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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**Chapter 6**

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"Father . . ."

"Sesshomaru." The Inutaisho slowly stepped out of the trees to stand before his son. He looked unchanged from the last time Sesshomaru had seen him, except the bloody wound in his side was gone—the wound that had been the ultimate cause of his death two hundred years ago.

"You're dead." Sesshomaru's voice was flat, disbelieving, despite the figure standing before him.

"I was. But now, for a short time, I live again," the Inutaisho said, golden eyes calm and unreadable.

"Inu no Taisho," Bokusenu said softly, his voice husky with emotion, "tell me what miracle has brought you back to us."

The dog lord's eyes flicked to the ancient tree. "It is the prophecy you just spoke of that is the reason I stand before you now."

Sesshomaru watched, unmoving, unspeaking, waiting for an explanation.

"Five hundred years ago, the boundary between this world and next opened, and it fell upon four demons—only four—to hold back the minions of Hell. Those demons were my father, Zairin, his predecessor, and myself. We succeeded, barely, to save this world. Both my father and the former Gyazaseishou died from wounds shortly afterwards."

"I recall that battle," Boksenu mused. "A momentous time."

The Inutaisho nodded. "During the battle, Zairin was injured. Afterwards, in a delirium caused by fever, he spoke the prophecy, witnessed by myself and three others who were helping care for him."

"This prophecy was merely a fever dream?" Sesshomaru asked, his voice laced with scorn.

"Many believed so," the Inutaisho replied calmly. "But I did not. When Zairin recovered, he told me of the vision he'd had when he spoke the prophecy. He told me that in five hundred years from that night, the boundary between this world and the next would weaken again, and once more a rift would open. He spoke of four demon warriors who would fight to save all life. Just like the last time. And he told me who three of those warriors would be."

Sesshomaru waited.

"Zairin was one. I was the second. And you, Sesshomaru, were the third."

"So I am destined to fight in this battle?"

"Yes."

"That does not explain why you are here now. You died."

"I did," the Inutaisho said softly. "And three days ago, on the full moon, the Gyazaseishou called me back from the dead to fulfill the prophecy."

It sounded ludicrous. But then, when Sesshomaru thought of the Gyazaseishou's dark, unfathomable eyes, it was difficult to doubt. Zairin would not have breached the boundaries between worlds to bring the Inutaisho back to life unless he believed with all his being that it was wholly necessary.

"Who is the fourth demon?"

The dog lord shook his head slowly. "Zairin does not know. He has never known. Since the day he recovered from the battle five hundred years ago, he has searched for the demon, believing he would recognize the one from the prophecy if he met him, but even now, he has not found the right person." The Inutaisho paused, then added softly, almost to himself, "I believe it _must_ be Inuyasha."

For a long moment, Sesshomaru said nothing. His mind raced. He did not know what to do, what to feel. He had never imagined he would face his father again. And _Inuyasha . . ._

The word escaped before he could stop it. "Why?"

The Inutaisho's expression did not change, unreadable, unassailable. As strong as ever.

"Why, Father?" Sesshomaru burst out, his mask of indifference slipping and falling away. "Why did you bequeath me the Tenseiga? Why not the Tetsusaiga? Why give it to _Inuyasha_?"

The dog lord sighed, clearly having been expecting this. "Because Inuyasha had far more need of it than you, Sesshomaru. And you had need of Tenseiga."

Sesshomaru bottled his rage and resentment. His hand clenched into a fist. "What need do I have of a sword so useless it cannot even cut?"

The Inutaisho turned away, staring off into the trees. For a moment, Sesshomaru's vision doubled, and he saw the dark ocean crashing on the snowy beach, the gentle flakes drifting softly through the cold winter air. The Inutaisho had stood with his back to his son, blood dripping from wound in his side, and he had asked the question that had haunted Sesshomaru for two hundred years. That night so long ago, the last time he had seen his father before he'd died.

"Tell me, my son, have you found someone to protect?"

Sesshomaru's expression darkened with anger, his vision of the past fading. "I don't need anyone to protect. I did not then, and nothing has changed. Why would I waste my time and energy on something so pointless?"

"Then you still have need of Tenseiga, Sesshomaru."

Sesshomaru bared his teeth. "Why? I do not understand why!"

The Inutaisho turned, his eyes flashing brilliant gold, his gaze so intense it froze Sesshomaru where he stood.

"To teach you a lesson you have yet to learn, Sesshomaru. A lesson you must learn before you will ever achieve true power as you desire."

Sesshomaru's breath caught. The world tilted wildly for a moment before steadying. When he could breathe again, the Inutaisho had just finished his goodbyes to Boksenu. He turned and studied Sesshomaru.

"Are you coming? We must prepare for battle." The dog lord turned to leave. "Zairin will be meeting us soon."

When the Inutaisho walked away, Sesshomaru followed without thought, as he had done all his life before his father had died. But it was not the same now. He was a grown adult; he was independent. He did not need his father anymore.

And he did not need someone to protect. Feelings of love and compassion were nothing but weaknesses. Father had learned that the hard way. Father had _died_ because of feelings like those.

He was stronger than his father now. He did not allow himself to feel any emotion that might weaken him. He had power; he had everything he needed.

Didn't he?

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"Do you feel that?"

Kagome paused, turning to look at Inuyasha with a frown. "Feel what?"

Inuyasha stood rock still, his eyes flicking around at the nearby trees nervously. He actually looked a little pale. "Can't you feel it?" he whispered.

Sango stepped up beside the hanyou, her brow puckering as she looked down at the demon cat cradled in her arms. "Kilala is trembling . . ."

Kagome swallowed hard, turning her head from side to side as she tried to see something through the thick foliage of the forest. Dim light filtered through the trees, creating shifting shadows everywhere.

Shippo whimpered. "It feels . . . it f-feels . . ." He shuddered visibly.

Kagome's frown deepened. She didn't feel anything strange . . .

And then she felt it. Like a freezing-cold whisper creeping through the air, it slithered over her flesh, reaching down to cast an icy shadow over her soul. She started to shiver. "What is that?" Her voice was barely above a terrified whisper.

Miroku was gripping his staff so hard his knuckles were white. Sango had released Kilala and was now clutching her hiraikotsu. Shippo's eyes were filled with tears of terror. Inuyasha had his fist wrapped tightly around Tetsusaiga's hilt, despite the heat the weapon was still generating.

With a roar that made everyone jump, Kilala transformed. Snarling, the demon cat stared into the trees ahead of them.

It came slowly. Tendrils of darkness drifted towards them, seeping out of the trees like some sickly fog. It sifted through the foliage, coiling around their ankles, obscuring anything more than a dozen feet away. Kagome and the others all shifted closer together, fearfully watching as the black mist surrounded them.

The sunlight dimmed, then disappeared, plunging the forest into darkness. As the unnatural night fell, all sound in the forest ceased, becoming as silent as the grave. The only thing Kagome could hear was the sound of her own harsh breathing and that of her companions.

The terrifying aura of death that made Kagome think of ghosts and walking dead became stronger, even as the black fog thickened further, cooling until its touch was like ice. Kagome realized she was trembling violently. Her head swiveled wildly as she searched for the source of this terrible demonic aura.

"Look!" Miroku suddenly called, his voice loud and blaring in the silence.

Kagome whirled, peering into the darkness where the monk was pointing. The shadows were thicker there, almost solid . . .

The huge shape materialized slowly out of the darkness, coming forward unhurriedly, its pace menacing and confident. Kagome's eyes widened as her heart pounded in fear.

It was a monstrous horse. Taller than any she'd ever seen before, the beast's shoulder was level with the top of Inuyasha's head. Its black coat shone in the dim light, powerful muscles rippling under its skin. Its long mane and tail were as dark as its coat, blacker than the night around them. It was ferociously beautiful, deadly. Its huge hooves pawed restlessly at the turf as it tossed its enormous head, its fierce red eyes rolling towards them. It snorted impatiently, dancing in place, shaking its head with eager anticipation.

The horse's rider was just as terrifying as the beast he sat upon. Dressed in all black except for the blood-red symbols emblazoned on his sleeves, the demon blended into the darkness. The hilts of not one but _two_ swords jutted up from behind each shoulder. His skin was pale, as white as a corpse. His face was beautiful, but so very, very cold. His raven black hair was pulled into a long braid, his bangs parted at a prominent widow's peak, drawing one's gaze to his macabre eyes. And those eyes sent shivers of fear down Kagome's spine.

Eyes as dark as the blackest midnight. Eyes as frozen as the deepest winter. Eyes so cold and empty they seemed to suck her soul into their unfathomable depths.

Horse and rider moved forward, the beast's hooves making no sound on the forest floor. Even through her terror, Kagome realized that the demon horse _should_ have made noise on the leaf- and twig-ridden ground. Was it a phantom?

Stopping ten paces away, the demon silently watched them, keeping a tight rein on his spirited mount. Inuyasha was a breath away from drawing the Tetsusaiga, but seemed as frozen with fear as the rest of them.

The demon studied each of them in turn. When his eyes swept over Kagome, she squeezed her own eyes shut, terrified her soul would be devoured in the demon's darkly intense and frighteningly compelling gaze. Lastly, his stare came to rest on Inuyasha, who quivered slightly, but didn't flinch.

In a sudden movement, the demon dismounted from his horse, swinging down with such grace that Kagome's awe nearly overcame her fear. The demon touched his mount's muzzle, and Kagome blinked in surprise when the demon horse obediently trotted away—with absolute silence—to disappear into the darkness. The demon turned to face them once again, slowly reaching up and unsheathing one of his swords with a metallic slither.

"Draw your sword, Inuyasha," the demon said softly, his voice like the whisper of death itself.

How did he know Inuyasha's name?

Inuyasha seemed to shake off his lethargy. He whipped out the Tetsusaiga in a flash of golden light, swinging the sword in a graceful arc and sending the dark fog swirling.

"Who the hell are you?" the hanyou demanded, his harsh voice loud in the silence.

The demon didn't reply. In a movement almost faster than the eye, he leaped sword first at Inuyasha.

Demon and hanyou came together in a horrendous crash of sound. Black lightening sizzled down the blades of both swords as the demon's sword and Tetsusaiga clashed. With a grunt of effort, Inuyasha heaved his sword, flinging the black-clad demon away.

The demon landed easily on his feet and was upon Inuyasha almost before the hanyou had a chance to raise Tetsusaiga again. Black lightening blasted around them as the swords crashed against one another.

"Kagome!" Miroku yelled, grabbing her arm. "Get back!"

They all scrambled out of the way of the two battling demons, watching with wide eyes as the black-clad demon pressed Inuyasha hard, his sword flashing with swift, rapid attacks. Inuyasha could barely keep up and was forced to retreat again and again.

Hurling the demon away from him once again, Inuyasha lifted Tetsusaiga over his head.

"Die, you bastard!" Inuyasha roared, bringing the Tetsusaiga slamming into the earth. The Wind Scar roared forth.

But the demon had already leaped away. Before Inuyasha could raise his sword again, the demon was upon him.

The black-clad demon's blade flashed, and Inuyasha cried out, stumbling backwards.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome screamed.

Snarling with pain and anger, Inuyasha leaped forward, bringing up the Tetsusaiga to slice the black demon in half. The demon blocked, shockwaves of black lightening almost knocking Inuyasha off his feet. The hanyou lunged forward again. The blades hit, each demon pushing hard, trying to force his enemy backwards. Their faces were inches apart.

In that moment, when neither demon moved, Kagome looked full into the face of the black-clad demon. She gasped with fear. The demon's expression was not one of hate or malice, or even anger. His expression was bland, emotionless—and not the least bit strained. Was he even _trying_?

Without changing expression, the demon leaped away, throwing Inuyasha off balance. The demon landed behind the hanyou, his blade flashing out again, lancing Inuyasha's back.

"Damn it!" Inuyasha bellowed, whipping around only to have his enemy dodge out of reach. The demon sprang forward again, slicing down the length of Inuyasha's sword arm before he could bring up the Tetsusaiga around to block.

Kagome clutched her bow. The demon was too fast. Inuyasha couldn't keep up! Watching the demon—it was like a dance of death. He moved with such deadly grace it sent shivers down her spine. Never did he make a move that was unnecessary, saving his strength, attacking only when he was sure of a hit, blocking or dodging every one of Inuyasha's clumsy assaults, always managing to make the hanyou waste his strength and energy.

This time, however, when the demon danced back out of reach, Inuyasha raised Tetsusaiga, preparing to use the Wind Scar before the demon could evade. He started to bring the sword down—

—and the demon leaped right for Inuyasha.

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**A/N:**

I heart cliffhangers. xD


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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**Chapter 7**

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The demon leaped right for Inuyasha.

With the sound of tearing cloth, he slashed his sword across Inuyasha's exposed stomach. The hanyou doubled up instantly, dropping to his knees in front of the black-clad demon.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome screamed.

Sango was already running forward. She drew her boomerang back over her shoulder, then hurled it with all her strength at the demon.

The demon had not expected interference. He looked up just in time to throw himself backwards out of the path of the hiraikotsu. In his first ungraceful move, the demon landed hard on his back.

Inuyasha was already on his feet, bringing the Tetsusaiga down on the vulnerable demon. The black-clad demon rolled, the Tetsusaiga's blade smashing into the ground inches from his arm. As Inuyasha raised his sword again, the demon kicked out, knocking Inuyasha's feet out from under him.

The hanyou toppled down on top of the black-clad demon. They rolled in a tangle of limbs, then the demon broke free, leaping to his feet in a motion so graceful nothing remotely human could have made it. As Inuyasha jumped to his feet as well, the demon once again leaped into motion, slicing Inuyasha's shoulder.

With a bellow, the hanyou swung Tetsusaiga viciously, forcing the black-clad demon back. Pressing his advantage, Inuyasha pushed the demon back step by hard fought step, not giving him a chance to evade, not giving him enough room to bring his superior speed into play.

Then, by pure chance alone, the demon's foot caught on a root and he stumbled. He recovered almost instantly, but not quite fast enough. Tetsusaiga sang through the air, biting deep into the demon's thigh.

Pain flickered across the demon's cold face and was gone.

He leaped backwards, simultaneously drawing his second sword. And everything went downhill from there.

The demon, now that he was doubly armed, was near invincible. His devastating attacks were lightening fast, and in a matter of minutes, Inuyasha was bleeding from dozens of wounds all over his body. The hanyou's reactions were slowing even further, and his defenses kept slipping as he weakened.

"Inuyasha!" Sango cried. She hurled her hiraikotsu again.

This time the demon was ready. As the weapon spun towards him, he broke off his attack on Inuyasha and slammed one of his swords into the boomerang in midair. The weapon crashed to the ground, useless.

But that moment of distraction gave Inuyasha a chance. Jumping in blade first, he aimed the Tetsusaiga right for the demon's heart.

One of the demon's blades connected hard with the Tetsusaiga, knocking the weapon right out of Inuyasha's hands. The demon's elbow slammed into Inuyasha's chest, knocking the hanyou to the ground.

The black-clad demon's other blade came to rest against Inuyasha's throat.

Silence fell once again, the clash of metal still echoing in Kagome's ears. Her heart pounded hard against her ribcage. The demon's expression was unreadable.

"Foxfire!"

An explosion of blue flames blasted towards the black-clad demon where he stood over Inuyasha. Startled, the demon leaped away, dodging the flames.

Shippo scuttled backwards to hide behind Sango. Kagome felt a surge of pride. Shippo had risked himself to save Inuyasha.

Inuyasha was on his feet instantly, grabbing Tetsusaiga and backing away from the demon. Miroku ran forward.

"Get back, Inuyasha. I'll take care of him with my windtunnel."

Inuyasha growled breathlessly. "Don't interfere, monk," he grated, though it sounded halfhearted at best. The hanyou was clutching one bloodied hand to the wound across his stomach.

Miroku ignored the hanyou. Before the black-clad demon could react, Miroku whipped the sutra beads off his hand and unleashed the windtunnel.

The void opened, the howling wind sucking up leaves and branches in a deadly maelstrom.

Surprise revealed itself the demon's face, and he slammed both swords into the ground to brace himself against the wind. Almost instantly, however, he began to slide towards the black hole in Miroku's hand.

The demon's expression darkened, the first real emotion Kagome had seen him express coming to the surface. Anger.

"Stop this, monk, before I have to kill you."

The demon's voice was calm and cold. There was no hint of fear in his tone or on his face. Didn't he realize what was happening?

"No one has ever escaped my windtunnel!" Miroku yelled over the howling gale. "This is the end for you, demon!"

The black-clad demon slid forward another foot, his hair whipping about his face. "I will say this only once more. Stop or die."

Kagome felt a prickle of fear run down her spine. The demon wasn't afraid. Could he really kill Miroku without being sucked into the windtunnel?

"I'm not going to stop just so you can kill my friends, demon!" Miroku shouted. The demon was pulled another two feet towards the monk.

"Then so be it."

The feeling of the sinister aura in the air suddenly thickened, and a darkly glowing, faintly transparent wave of blackness encircled Miroku and began to constrict. The windtunnel didn't affect it all.

"Miroku!" Sango shouted.

With a startled exclamation, the monk flung his beads over his hand, closing the windtunnel. The dark cage tightened around him.

The demon, released from the windtunnel, shot forward. The circle of darkness evaporated without a trace at the same instant the demon's elbow smashed into the Miroku's face.

The monk crashed to the ground. Sango cried out and leaped forward, drawing her sword and putting herself between Miroku and the demon. Swearing, Inuyasha did the same.

The demon stepped back, not raising his swords.

Kagome, while the darkness had been about to devour Miroku, had inched her way around until she was standing perpendicular to the demon and the others. Keeping her movements slow so as not to draw the demon's eye, she had nocked an arrow, drawing the string back to her cheek.

"Inuyasha," the demon began quietly, his voice still soft and cold. "You—"

Kagome realized a second too late that she shouldn't fire. With a cry, she tried to stop herself, but the arrow slipped from her fingers and shot forward in a blast of blue light.

Time seemed to slow as the arrow sped towards the demon. Kagome watched in horror as the black-clad demon began to turn, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw the arrow shooting towards him, engulfed in a blue glow.

Time resuming its normal pace, Kagome's scream filled the false night as the demon leaped backwards—too slow. The arrow connected with his shoulder, blasting a gaping hole in his shoulder.

Silence descended on the clearing. In a sudden burst of light, the dark shadow over the sun disappeared, the black fog dissolving. Through her shock, Kagome realized that it had all been an illusion.

The demon staggered, clutching the wound, his other arm hanging limply, then dropped to his knees with a soft moan.

Kagome ran forward, stopping a couple feet from the demon, her eyes wide with the horror of what she'd done. The demon hadn't killed Inuyasha when he could have. He had spared Miroku as well. She didn't know what this demon's purpose or motive was, but he hadn't killed them when he easily could have.

And now she had maimed him, probably killed him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I thought—I-I couldn't stop it . . . I'm sorry."

The demon's head was bowed, his hair hiding his face. "Stupid girl," he growled.

Kagome flinched, then stepped back with a gasp as the demon started to glow with a dark light.

Inuyasha's hand closed on her arm, pulling her back. They all watched in stunned amazement as the dark radiance around the demon increased. The black glow pulsed over the wound, and slowly, the light thickened, becoming solid, extending up to fill the gap where his shoulder had been destroyed by the arrow.

The glow slowly faded. The demon flexed his healed arm. Even his sleeve had been recreated. Kagome stared in fixated wonder. He had the power to regenerate himself . . .

The demon rose to his feet, lifting one hand to push his now very messy hair—the windtunnel was very hard on one's hair—out of his face. He turned his dark gaze, now burning with anger, on Kagome.

"I should send you to Hell."

Inuyasha shoved her behind him and raised Tetsusaiga once again.

His expression filtering into one of disgusted annoyance, the demon ignored the sword pointed at his face and turned away, walking over the where his other sword lay.

Picking up his second sword, the demon sheathed both of them. Kagome was impressed—he hadn't even had to look to insert the swords into their sheaths. She had thought sheathing a sword over one's shoulder without looking would be difficult.

The demon turned back to face them, his face once again blank and unreadable. His dark gaze flicked from face to face, then once again came to rest on Inuyasha.

"You are your father's son beyond any doubt, Inuyasha," the demon said quietly.

Kagome blinked in surprise. Just who _was_ this demon?

Inuyasha seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing, for he spat angrily. "Okay, demon, start talking. Just who the hell are you?"

To Kagome' surprise, the corners of the demon's lips curved up in a very small smile. "Have you not guessed, Inuyasha? I am the Gyazaseishou."

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**A/N:**

Thanks for all the reviews so far! You all rawk!! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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**Chapter 8**

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Miroku was the first to respond to the demon's shocking statement. He grinned dryly, leaning on Sango and sporting a spectacular black eye. "I suppose we should have guessed."

Kagome's mind grappled with this new information. Why _hadn't_ she guessed? Disturbing aura, twin swords—Teitaisendo and Kataisendo, Totosai had said—strange abilities, amazing talent in battle, gloomy, dark personality, and, to top it all off, strongly resembled the grim reaper or some other such specter? How could they have missed it?

Well, for starters, they hadn't expected to find the Gatherer of Souls so easily—or have him find them. And second of all, who would have guessed the first thing he'd do was attack Inuyasha?

"You—_you're_ the Gyazaseishou?" Inuyasha spluttered. "Then why the hell did you attack me? I thought you and my father were friends!"

"We are."

Kagome shivered. Why had he referred to Inuyasha's father in present tense? Was this demon able to converse with dead souls or something?

"Then why'd you attack me?" Inuyasha shifted back into a fighting stance, raising Tetsusaiga once again. "You're not like _Sesshomaru_, are you?"

Irritation flickered in the demon's eyes. "Don't be a fool."

"Then why?!"

"I had need to test your strength in battle." The demon's voice was as bland as his expression. He offered no further explanation. Myoga had been right. The Gatherer of Souls was closemouthed. And he was dark and gloomy. And his aura was _very_ unsettling.

But remembering what Myoga had told them about the demon's past, Kagome felt a surge of sympathy well up inside her.

As though he had sensed her thoughts, the Gyazaseishou turned, pinning her with his dark, almost sinister eyes. "I had intended to merely test you, Inuyasha . . . but it seems I was granted the opportunity to observe the abilities of your companions as well."

Kagome, Sango, Shippo, and Miroku all shifted uncomfortably.

"That was stupid of you," Inuyasha snapped. "What if we'd killed you? Why didn't you tell us who were first?"

"You would have held back out of fear of harming me. That was unacceptable." The demon paused, then added, "I was in no danger when fighting you alone. Had I known your companions to be so audacious as to interfere in your battle, even after I specifically challenged _you_ . . ."

Again, Kagome and the others fidgeted nervously.

Inuyasha shook his head. "You're damn lucky you ain't dead now, you know."

Again, that faint smile ghosted across the Gyazaseishou's lips. "I am not easy to kill."

The hanyou narrowed his eyes. "How much of you has to be in one piece for you to regenerate your body?" he asked curiously.

Apparently deciding to ignore Inuyasha's question, the demon shifted his gaze to Miroku. "You are the lucky one, monk. Be more careful who you turn that weapon on."

"Would . . . would you have actually killed me?" Miroku asked hesitantly.

"I would have gathered your soul."

Kagome's blood chilled as Miroku paled. Myoga's words came back to her in a rush.

'_With the power of death, he can pull a person's soul right from their body—he doesn't even have to touch them!'_

The Gyazaseishou; the _Gatherer_ of Souls.

_Is that what that cloud of darkness had been? Miroku's soul about to be pulled out?_

She didn't realize she had spoken aloud until the demon answered.

"No . . . that was an illusion."

Kagome gaped. He had created the illusion to try and frighten Miroku into stopping before he had no choice but to rip the monk's soul right out of his body.

Sango's voice quavered as she asked, "So there's no warning, no sign to show when you're about to 'gather' someone's soul?"

The demon ignored the question, turning and staring of into the trees to his right. After a moment, he whistled sharply as though signaling someone. Turning back to Inuyasha, his dark, steady gaze searched the hanyou's face.

"You were seeking me."

Kagome and the others gasped. Could this demon read minds or something? "H-how did you know we were looking for you?" she stuttered.

"I spoke with Totosai two days ago."

Kagome analyzed the disappointment that welled up inside her at the demon's response. She had actually been hoping it was something more exciting.

"How mundane," Miroku murmured from behind her, obviously having the same sentiments.

The Gatherer's expression didn't change, but his eyebrows rose ever so slightly. Kagome smothered a laugh. Their reactions must seem entirely absurd to him.

Inuyasha finally sheathed Tetsusaiga. "We were looking for you 'cause Myoga and Totosai told us about a prophecy you made about souls that 'forget to fade'. A couple days ago, when we were traveling, we came across a battlefield full of souls of the dead."

"We sought you out," Miroku added, "in hopes that you knew what was happening, and perhaps knew how to counteract it."

For a long time, the Gyazaseishou was silent, merely watching them, studying them. When he finally answered, his voice betrayed nothing. "We will return to Totosai's. I will explain then."

As the Gatherer's horse trotted into the clearing, nuzzling his master and prancing around like a colt, Kagome hoped that whatever the demon was going to tell them wasn't as bad as she suspected it would be.

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Kagome stared into the flames of Totosai's fire.

It had taken them a full day to travel back to Totosai's cave. Upon arriving, the Gyazaseishou had immediately disappeared into the sword smith's cave, where could be heard the ring of steel on steel. It seemed Totosai had a new project to work on.

Kagome shook her head, thinking back over the last couple hours. The Gyazaseishou was indeed a strange character. Quiet and somber, he never smiled—except for those little twitches that were almost smiles—and he never laughed. He in no way showed any emotion at all. His eyes were dark and unfathomable, his soft voice detached, almost dead.

If she had to choose just one word to describe him, she would choose 'distant'. A number of times, she and Miroku had tried to engage him in conversation. His replies had been short, almost rude—when he had actually bothered to respond at all. He had this infuriating habit of simply ignoring someone when he didn't want to talk to them. The only real response she'd gotten out of him had been when she'd apologized for injuring him.

She had moved up beside him, careful to make sure he was between her and his horse as he led the fierce beast by its reins. Shooting a nervous glance at his indifferent face, she cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Um," she'd said hesitantly, "I'm really sorry—about—about your shoulder. I-I didn't mean to. I mean, I tried to stop when I realized you weren't going to kill us, but I slipped, and . . ." She'd trailed off lamely.

After a moment of strained silence, the demon had glanced at her, slipping past all her defenses to look directly into her soul with those frozen midnight eyes. She'd looked away, unable to bear his steady, scrutinizing gaze.

"You have great power, miko," he said softly, the conviction in his voice startling her. She twisted her head around to stare at him, even more surprised by his intense expression. "With that power comes responsibility. Use it wisely."

And then his face had shifted back to that impassable, expressionless visage that revealed nothing, and he had refused to speak another word to her.

Though, for all he'd declined to speak with her or the others, he seemed to feel no such inhibitions with Inuyasha. Little more than an hour into their journey back to Totosai's had found the hanyou and demon deep in conversation about their battle. Fascinated, Kagome had surreptitiously listened as the Gyazaseishou explained to Inuyasha how he had used the hanyou's own weaknesses against him, and then had suggested ways for Inuyasha to compensate. The Gatherer had spoken of different methods Inuyasha could use to counteract the advantage faster demons had over the hanyou, how he could prevent what had happened in his battle with the Gatherer from occurring again.

And just as amazing as this sudden flood of words from the quiet, reclusive Gyazaseishou had been Inuyasha's reaction. The hanyou had been hanging on the Gatherer's every word, listening with rapt attention, his eyes intense with concentration. That, more than anything, had stunned Kagome. Inuyasha stubbornly refused to ever take _anyone's_ advice, yet here he had been letting a total stranger lecture him on battle technique.

Was it because the Gatherer had been a friend of Inuyasha's father? Was the hanyou looking at the demon as a kind of replacement parent?

Frowning, Kagome glanced at the hanyou where he sat beside her at the fire, staring into the dancing flames as he absently fiddled with Tetsusaiga's sheath, his eyes lost in thought. What would the Gatherer think if he knew how Inuyasha was viewing him? Did the hanyou even realize the subconscious connection he'd made?

At that moment, the Gyazaseishou appeared in the entrance of Totosai's cave. The demon gracefully moved forward to sit on Inuyasha's other side, his expression a little more serious than normal.

Kagome's breath caught. Was he going to tell them of the prophecy now?

The demon's midnight eyes swung around to stare at her long enough to make her sweat. Shivering under his dark appraisal, she met his gaze, determined not to let him intimidate her again. After another eternally long moment, the demon's lips twitched in one of his tiny smiles, and he then proceeded to re-braid his tangled black hair.

Kagome's jaw dropped. What was with this guy?! She'd thought he was going to explain the prophecy to them, not fix his hair!

The sound of flesh hitting flesh caused her to whirl around where she sat.

Expecting to see a red hand print adorning Miroku's face, she was surprised to see it was actually from Inuyasha that the slapping sound had originated.

Pulling his hand away from his neck, they all watched the flea float down to land on Inuyasha's knee. After a moment, Myoga popped back into shape.

"Ah, Lord Inuyasha! What a pleasure to taste you again!"

Before the hanyou could retort, the Gyazaseishou's hand snapped out, snatching the flea. The Gatherer held up the tiny demon between two black-tinted claws.

As he lifted the flea, Kagome's eyes caught on the blood-red mark on the back of the Gatherer's hand. Like a tattoo that spanned the entire back of his hand, the mark looked like an elegant, archaic combination of the kanji symbols of life and death.

Pinching Myoga between his deadly claws, the Gatherer gave the flea a look of quiet disgust. "I see you have yet to grow out of that repulsive habit, pest."

"Ah, Lord Zairin" Myoga said nervously, squirming in the Gyazaseishou's grip, "I see you've returned. And you found Inuyasha! So quickly, too! Wonderful!"

The Gyazaseishou's expression shifted to one of annoyance, and he carelessly flicked the flea away with no more concern that one flicked lint off their clothes. Kagome smothered a rueful smile. So, Totosai had been right. The Gatherer didn't like Myoga one bit.

"So, Lord Zairin," Miroku began respectfully, "will you tell us of the prophecy now?"

The Gatherer's gaze slowly shifted to Miroku, but he looked away without responding. Kagome swallowed a protest. What was this demon's problem? Why was he keeping them in suspense like this?

"Don't mind Lord Zairin, Miroku," Myoga said, creeping back to sit on Kilala's head. "He'll tell you when he's ready. He _likes_ to keep people waiting, especially when it's something important." The little demon shot the Gatherer a nasty look.

The Gyazaseishou returned the flea's look calmly, then shifted his midnight eyes to watch the fire. "Myoga has grown careless," he murmured to no one in particular.

Myoga gasped, going deathly pale. "Ah, p-please forgive me, Lord Gyazaseishou! I forgot myself!" The flea prostrated himself, looking absolutely terrified.

Kagome blinked. Had she missed something . . .?

The Gatherer looked grimly satisfied. Inuyasha was smirking. Miroku was rubbing his hand across his mouth, but wasn't quite able to erase his smile. Sango was watching Zairin, her expression calculating. Shippo had fallen asleep beside Kilala.

A moment later, Totosai came bustling out of his cave, wiping his hands on a dirty scrap of cloth. The sword smith looked exhausted, but pleased.

"Everything is going according to schedule, ol' Zairin!" Totosai exclaimed happily. "It'll be ready by tomorrow morning."

Kagome felt a flicker of surprise. Totosai's new project was being made for the Gyazaseishou?

Zairin nodded. Totosai glanced at the somber group sitting around the fire, then joined the circle. "Thanks for waiting, Zairin," the sword smith exclaimed, sounding taken aback. "I wouldn't have wanted to miss the tale behind your little rhyme."

Kagome's eyes widened. So that's why the Gatherer had refused to tell them about the prophecy? He'd been waiting for Totosai to join them?

Myoga bolted upright, his alert eyes fixed attentively on the Gyazaseishou. "Will you tell of us of the prophecy now, Lord Zairin?"

The Gyazaseishou just looked at the flea. "I will say nothing until you leave."

Myoga sagged like a deflated balloon. "Lord Zairin, please, be reasonable . . ."

The demon's expression did not change. He waited.

Inuyasha snorted. "If you send him away, then _I'll_ just have to tell him later."

Zairin's gaze swung over to Inuyasha, then back to Myoga. The demon shrugged ever so slightly, then looked into the flames of the fire.

"You have all heard the prophecy. It is true I was the prophet . . . five hundred years ago." The demon paused, his dark eyes becoming distant as he looked back on memories that had taken place so long ago Kagome could barely imagine it. "The barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead is not an impenetrable wall, as so many believe," he continued after a moment. "It is like a veil. It exists everywhere, yet is nowhere. You cannot touch it, you cannot feel it, you cannot see it, unless you are dead."

"Or the Gyazaseishou," Totosai added.

The Gatherer continued. "Inuyasha, the reason the souls you saw remained at their place of death is because the barrier between the world of the living and world of dead has weakened. It is no longer strong enough to draw those souls across itself and hold them in the other world. This weakening of the barrier has occurred because the time of the prophecy approaches."

Kagome's stomach twisted with fear. This was sounding more foreboding by the minute.

"The boundary is susceptible to changes in this world, to the ebb and flow of life and death and magic. At certain times, the veil becomes thinner, weaker. Normally, it is nothing of consequence, but every five centuries, the barrier fails."

Kagome gasped. The boundary between earth and Hell was going to fail?

Miroku had gone pale. "Fails?"

"Yes," the Gyazaseishou's voice was calm, flat, emotionless. "On the night of the full moon, when all goes dark, the boundary will rend, and the minions of Hell will pour forth to consume this world."

Kagome's blood ran cold. "But you can stop it, can't you?" she asked, a quaver of dread in her voice.

"Not alone. It will take four to save this world."

" 'Only the strongest four can end the attack'," Myoga quoted softly.

Kagome's brow puckered as she frowned. "Who are these four?"

The Gyazaseishou's dark, macabre eyes slid over to rest on Inuyasha. "You are one," he said softly.

The silence was heavy, tense. Inuyasha and the Gatherer stared at one another.

Miroku cleared his throat. "Is that why you came to find us? To get Inuyasha?"

Zairin finally broke eye contact with Inuyasha. The hanyou turned and stared into the flames, not speaking. Kagome wondered what had passed between the two demons.

Myoga was pacing nervously. "Lord Zairin, how long is it until the barrier fails?"

"On the next full moon."

The flea yelped, whirling around to stare at the Gatherer. "The full moon? That's less than three weeks away!"

"Seventeen days."

Myoga was nearly hysterical. Kagome stared at the flea. "This is awful! Why didn't you come sooner? We have no time to get ready, to prepare, to—"

"You presume to criticize me, flea?" the Gyazaseishou asked mildly.

Myoga froze, breaking out instantly in a nervous sweat. He cowered down, trying to make himself smaller. "O-of course not, Lord Zairin," he whispered.

Kagome's frown deepened. Something wasn't quite right. It was almost as if Myoga believed that Zairin would actually kill him if offended enough. Was the Gatherer simply teasing the flea, or was there more to it?

"There is enough time," Zairin said, his voice taking on a sepulchral quality. "There is just enough time."

Inuyasha finally spoke. "Just enough time? What exactly do we have to do?"

The Gatherer blinked slowly, coming back to himself. "We must prepare. We must train."

"For what? I already know how to fight."

"Alone. All four warriors must hone their skills, must learn to work together, to compensate for others' weaknesses, to depend on others' strengths. And you must learn how to destroy the Youkai no Makai."

"Kill _what_?" Inuyasha asked, puzzled.

"The Demons of Hell," Myoga whispered, his voice trembling.

"They are the undead," the Gatherer of Souls said, his dark eyes flashing with a strange light. "The Makai cannot be killed."

Sango frowned. "If they can't be killed, how is Inuyasha supposed to fight them and win?"

"They cannot be killed, but they can be destroyed. That is what Inuyasha must learn." The Gyazaseishou rose to his feet. "It is time to go to the training grounds."

Kagome shot to her feet. "Wait! What about the other three warriors of the prophecy?"

"The other two will meet us there."

"Two? But who's the last one?"

The Gyazaseishou turned, his eyes pinning her, searing her, threatening to suck her soul into the obsidian void of his gaze. "Inuyasha is the last," his whispered in a voice as dark as midnight. "_I_ am the first."

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**A/N:**

Sorry for the late update, got bogged down with school. It's an extra long chapter to make up for the wait. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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**Chapter 9**

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Kagome clung precariously to Inuyasha's back as he bounded up the steep mountain path. Sango, Miroku, Shippo, and Myoga rode on Kilala alongside Inuyasha. Ahead of them, mounted on his monstrous black horse, rode the Gyazaseishou.

Strapped to the back of the Gatherer's mount was a cloth wrapped bundle. As they had prepared to depart from Totosai's home, the sword smith had come out his cave and passed the parcel to the Gyazaseishou. The two demons had talked for a moment—or more specifically, Totosai had talked and Zairin had listened. Kagome hadn't heard what had been said, but the Gatherer had taken the sword and tied it to the saddle of his mount. He hadn't spoken a word about it, to Kagome's annoyance. She was nearly going mad with curiosity. Why would the Gatherer of Souls need another weapon? He already had _two_ superior swords.

Well, whatever he needed it for, Zairin had obviously needed it in a hurry, as Totosai had looked absolutely exhausted by the time they'd left. The old sword smith had said he would rest for a day, then follow them. Kagome had no idea why Totosai wanted to come, but she hadn't mentioned it, for at that moment, the Gyazaseishou had ordered Myoga to wait there and come with Totosai—and surprisingly, the flea had agreed, though with great reluctance.

Or maybe it wasn't so surprising, Kagome thought to herself. Myoga seemed inexplicably terrified of the Gatherer. Sure, he was a rather dark and creepy person, and his aura was horribly unsettling—though Kagome thought she just might be starting to get used to it—but the demon hadn't done anything that made her believe he would harm them. Even when he'd fought Inuyasha when they'd first met, the wounds he'd given Inuyasha had been little more than scratches—or so Inuyasha had boasted.

Kagome sighed, shaking her head. It was all so complicated. She wanted to trust the Gyazaseishou, but she wasn't entirely sure she could—or should. Attempting to distract herself from such dark thoughts, she looked around at the scenery from her vantage point on Inuyasha's back.

She had never been so far into the mountains before. Towering, snowy peaks surrounded them on every side, and the sharp breeze had the chill bite of winter. Scraggly trees sprouted irregularly in the rocky ground, and there was almost no grass or shrubbery to speak of it. It was a very desolate location, in her opinion.

Though, when she thought about it, the harsh conditions and difficult terrain would make it an ideal training site. That must be why the Gatherer had led them here over the past two days of hard traveling.

Studying the Gyazaseishou's back as he rode ahead of them, Kagome found herself wondering who the other two warriors of prophecy were. Well, who the other _one_ was. She was positive that Sesshomaru would be one of the prophesized warriors. The only problem with that was getting Inuyasha and his brother to work together. She hoped that the Gatherer's influence over Sesshomaru would be as strong as it was proving to be over Inuyasha, or things might get very unpleasant.

And the last demon. Who could it be? She didn't know of any demons besides Naraku who would be strong enough to fall into the category of one of the strongest four warriors alive. And there was no way that _Naraku_ would be helping them, whether a member of prophecy or not.

So who then? Squirming with impatience and curiosity, she squinted into the bright morning sun.

"Keep still, Kagome," Inuyasha snapped, "unless you want me to drop you."

Mumbling an embarrassed apology, Kagome ceased her fidgeting, though not out of fear that Inuyasha would actually drop her. He was already doing her a favour by carrying her; she didn't want to make it difficult for him.

Thinking back, Kagome felt a scowl tighten her face. The Gyazaseishou hadn't wanted her and the others to come. When they'd made clear their intention to follow him and the hanyou, Zairin had curtly informed them that they would only get in the way, and their presence was _not_ required.

Kagome had, just as curtly, informed the demon that they were Inuyasha's friends and would go with him wherever he went. When the Gatherer had told them they were endangering the prophecy, they had replied by saying that they would leave before the time of prophecy arrived. As the tense verbal struggle continued, the Gatherer's impatience and irritation had grown.

Finally, Zairin had whirled around and demanded of Inuyasha, who had remained silent through the entire debate, if he wanted them to come. Inuyasha had thought only for the briefest of moments before snapping gruffly that he didn't care what they did, though the faint blush that rose to his cheeks had stated otherwise.

The Gyazaseishou has studied Inuyasha for a long moment, then turned and pinned the humans with his frozen, macabre eyes.

"You may come," he said flatly, "but the moment you interfere, I will personally throw you all back down the mountain."

Though she hadn't understood the mountain part at the time, she had understood the threat. And now seeing the steep cliffs and towering peaks, the threat was all the worse. She had no desire to tumble down any of these mountains on her rear.

She was brought back to the present when the Gatherer's horse suddenly sat back on its haunches and slid to a jarring halt ahead of them. Inuyasha, scrambling to stop, skidded right into the beast's rump. Leaping out of the way before he got kicked, Inuyasha came up beside the Gatherer as Kilala came to a stop as well.

"What's wrong?" Kagome asked. "Are we there?"

She looked around. The almost non-existent path they were following kept going, winding through the stunted trees and disappearing over the rise ahead of them. There was nothing anywhere nearby that resembled training grounds, at least in her untutored opinion.

Sango, Miroku, and Shippo were looking around with similar expressions of confusion.

"Why have we stopped?" Shippo demanded when neither Inuyasha nor the Gyazaseishou made any move to continue on.

The Gatherer held up one hand, commanding silence. Kagome listened, her frown deepening. She sat up a little higher on Inuyasha's back, looking around again.

She heard it then. Sounds coming towards them, footsteps and crashing underbrush. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as a gang of bandits materialized out of the nearby trees, spreading across the path ahead of them. There were eleven of them, all armed and armoured.

One man stepped forward, glaring at Zairin, whom he seemed to have decided was the leader of their group.

The bandit leered. "Looky what we found. Leave all your belongings and the women, and we might just let you live." The man drew his sword threateningly.

Zairin seemed entirely untroubled by the man's blustering. He simply looked at the man, his dark gaze boring into the other's eyes.

"You will stand aside," the Gatherer of Souls intoned softly, his tone flat but with a hint of deadly power.

The man took a step back before he could stop himself. His companions muttered and shifted, gripping their weapons.

"Listen, you sniveling little lord," the leader of the bandits shouted brashly, brandishing his weapon, "leave your belongings now, or we'll kill you!" The other bandits yelled out in support, grinning nastily and revealing their yellow, broken teeth.

Inuyasha snarled. "_You_ listen, you—"

Zairin raised his hand again. Inuyasha broke off, giving the Gatherer a sullen, resentful look, which the other ignored.

"You waste my time," Zairin said quietly, instantly hushing the bandits. "You _will_ stand aside now." He didn't need to say 'or else'.

The humans grumbled among themselves, looking nervous and eyeing Zairin, Inuyasha, and Kilala anxiously.

_Go,_ she thought, a slow feeling of dread kindling in her stomach. _Go, just go_.

The leader of the gang raised his sword. "Kill him and his men! Take the women alive. We won't be intimidated by the likes of you."

The men all drew their weapons and surged forward with battle cries. Inuyasha's hand snapped towards Tetsusaiga as Sango reached over her shoulder for her hiraikotsu. The men barreled down on them, and Kagome felt a strange surge from Zairin's demonic aura.

The men dropped to the ground like felled trees.

Dead. All dead.

Kagome's stared in shock, first at the bandits, then at Zairin.

He hadn't moved. He hadn't shifted at all. There'd been no sign, no spell, no flash of light, nothing at all. Except for that faint surge of his aura, there'd been no warning before the Gyazaseishou had killed them. Just like that, and they were dead.

Kagome felt fear ignite in her heart. No wonder Myoga was scared of Zairin—he had such power! He could kill her as easily as breathing. If he decided to kill you, you were _dead_.

Zairin sat completely still for a moment, then shifted in the saddle, turning to look at them. As his macabre eyes swept over her, she felt a pang in her heart that had nothing to do with fear.

He knew. He knew that they were afraid of him now. He knew what they were thinking. He knew that they would never be able to reconcile his power, that when they looked at him, they would see only a being who could kill them with a thought, who could rip out their souls with ease. They would see the Gatherer of Souls, not who he really was.

Only one person had seen who he really was. And that person had died two hundred years ago.

The Gyazaseishou turned in his saddle again, touching his heels to his mount's sides. The beast surged forwards again, resuming its canter up the mountain. After a long pause, Inuyasha broke into a run after the demon, Kilala following right behind.

Kagome grappled with the emotions raging inside her. She felt shock and fear at what the Gyazaseishou had done to the bandits. She pitied the humans who had died for nothing but stupidity. She felt sympathy for the man who was so completely alone because everyone he'd ever met feared his power—a power he had not asked for.

As she thought about it, staring at the demon's back as he rode ahead of them, she realized that he wasn't the cold killer she found herself labeling him. He had given the bandits every opportunity to flee, hadn't he? He had not acted until they'd attacked. Albeit, maybe he hadn't had to _kill_ them, but that was his power, wasn't it? And he did seem to be in a hurry. Maybe they couldn't have afforded to waste the time fighting the men until they realized they were outmatched and fled. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to risk anyone's life in a battle where accidents could and did happen.

Ten minutes later, she was still trying to convince herself not to be afraid of Zairin, but she wasn't having much luck. Even without his terrifying power and creepy demonic aura, the guy was just downright intimidating.

In the end, the only conclusion she managed to come to was that there was a lot about the Gatherer of Souls she didn't know. And probably never would.

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A/N:

I was asked in a review about just when in the Inuyasha saga this story is taking place. It happens some time before Inuyasha learns the Kongosoha (Diamond Spear Wave) attack with Tetsusaiga. Hope that clears up any confusion!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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**The Gatherer of Souls**

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Chapter 10

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Zairin walked down the forest path, deep in thought.

They had arrived at the appointed valley, deep in the western mountains, just as the sun had begun to set. Nearly a full day after encountering the human bandits.

Zairin felt a sigh trying to climb out of his throat and determinedly swallowed it back down. He didn't feel especially guilty about killing those men. They had been betrayers, murderers, and thieves. They had not been worthy of life, despite him having given them a chance to flee. More than they'd deserved, certainly. But still, that the task would fall to him had been . . . regrettable. He disliked displaying his power so blatantly in front of others. And the way Inuyasha and his companions had looked at him afterwards . . .

Zairin gave himself a mental shake, annoyed with his own nostalgia. What did it matter if they feared him? All living creatures feared death. Every person, demon or human, learned to fear the Gyazaseishou eventually.

Save one.

Zairin felt a rare smile grace his features as a familiar demonic aura reached him. Lengthening his stride, he followed the path, knowing that the Inu no Taisho would sense him and come.

"Zairin."

The Gatherer stopped as the Inutaisho came out the trees to his left.

"Nii-chan."

"You have returned," the Inutaisho continued. Zairin noted that dog demon looked a little rumpled. He must have found Sesshomaru and begun training already. "Did you locate Inuyasha?"

Zairin nodded. "I did. In fact, he had been searching for me already, and had departed from Totosai's within days of my arrival. He and his companions await us."

A quizzical frown flickered across the Inutaisho's face. "His companions?" he echoed.

Zairin nodded, watching his friend's expression closely. "Inuyasha's friends. A strange group, to be sure. They refused to be left behind, despite my best efforts to be rid of them. Alas, all I could manage was to extract a promise from each of them not to interfere."

Unabashed curiosity filled the dog demon's face. "Indeed," he murmured, his eyes sliding past Zairin to peer into the trees in the direction where Inuyasha waited. He did not, however, make any move to head towards his waiting son.

"Nii-chan," Zairin said softly, grasping his friend's shoulder, "have courage."

He could see the hesitation in the demon lord's eyes. The Inu no Taisho would face hordes of demons, would leap into battle after battle without a moment's indecision, yet the prospect of meeting his son for the first time filled him with uncertainly and foreboding.

Zairin gave the Inutaisho's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. "His heart is not bitter, Nii-chan. I do not believe he will resent you."

The dog demon took a deep breath and squared his broad shoulders, his expression filling with determination. "There is only one way to find out."

The Inutaisho strode forward, the Gyazaseishou falling into step behind him. They followed the path Zairin had just walked, heading back towards where Inuyasha and his friends waited.

"When I first found Inuyasha, I challenged him to battle," Zairin remarked calmly after a moment.

The Inutaisho stopped abruptly and turned to face his friend. His look was considering. "Did he recognize you?"

"No," Zairin replied. "The battle was . . . interesting." He started walking again, forcing the Inutaisho to follow.

"Inuyasha is slow and ungainly, but he is also determined and a fast learner. He even managed to cut me with the Tetsusaiga."

"Did he?" The Inutaisho sounded equally surprised, amused, and proud all at the same time.

"Indeed. However, the moment Inuyasha's life appeared to be in danger, his companions leaped to his defense."

"They interfered even after you challenged Inuyasha alone?"

"Yes. I had not expected it, though that was foolish of me. Humans do not know the laws of dueling as do we."

"Very true," the Inutaisho replied knowingly. "But the question is, does Inuyasha?"

"He seemed to have some vague notions about it. Instinctive, I would guess."

They continued walking, and, as they approached the clearing where Inuyasha and the others waited, voices carried to them.

". . . terrain is very hospitable," a female voice Zairin knew to be Sango was saying with approval. "This is an excellent place for hardcore training."

"A demon slayer," Zairin supplied. "She nearly decapitated me when I wounded Inuyasha in our battle."

The Inutaisho expression was one of surprise. "A demon slayer," he repeated in a disbelieving murmur.

"I agree," said a male voice. "I wonder where the other members of this prophecy are. The demonic auras around here are astounding."

"A Buddhist monk," Zairin informed his friend. "He has a strange weapon of black magic in the palm of his hand. I was almost forced to kill him when he turned it on me."

"Yeah," said the other female. "And I thought Lord Zairin's aura was strong."

"A young mortal girl," the Gatherer said, his voice shifting slightly. The Inutaisho paused and looked at him. Zairin looked back at the demon lord, his gaze intense. "She has enormous spiritual powers. She shot me with a sacred arrow and almost killed me." He reached out a hand to touch the other's shoulder. "It completely destroyed my shoulder, right there. Had I been anyone else, I would have been maimed."

The two demons stared at one another for a moment longer, then both started walking, once again tuning into the distant conversation.

". . . Inuyasha, do you know who the other demons here are?"

"A young kitsune child," Zairin said shortly.

There was a rude snort. "I can smell Sesshomaru already," replied a gruff male voice dripping with annoyance. "I should have known that bastard would be here."

"And that would be Inuyasha," Zairin said softly, watching the Inutaisho's face as indecision flickered across his features again. But his steps did not falter.

They were approaching the clearing now. The Gatherer could see the flashes of red passing back and forth through the trees. Inuyasha, it seemed, was pacing.

"I recognize Sesshomaru for sure," Inuyasha continued.

They reached the edge of the clearing.

"But the other scent, it seems familiar, but I—"

Zairin and the Inutaisho stepped into the clearing, side by side, as Inuyasha broke off both his sentence and his pacing and turned towards them.

The Gatherer kept his face impassive as he watched Inuyasha's eyes widen in surprise, his gaze locking on the Inutaisho, studying his face, his clothes, his hair. The half-demon's eye grew larger, his mouth opened then closed, and his face paled drastically.

Zairin wondered silently if Inuyasha was merely surprised to see another dog demon besides Sesshomaru, or if he truly recognized his father on some deeper level. The Gatherer was almost positive that Inuyasha didn't consciously _remember_ the Inutaisho.

The humans and kitsune hadn't noticed Inuyasha's reaction; they, too, were staring at the dog demon lord.

"So this is the last demon of your prophecy?" the monk asked when the silence began to stretch uncomfortably. Neither Inuyasha nor the Inutaisho had moved.

"He looks strong," Shippo said in a loud whisper to the demon slayer.

No one answered.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome, finally noticing the hanyou's distress, was taking a step towards him. "Inuyasha, are you okay?"

The other humans turned to look at Inuyasha at the same moment the Inutaisho whirled on Zairin, his expression livid. The Gyazaseishou calmly held his ground.

"You didn't tell him."

Zairin was aware of the humans turning back at the sound of the dog lord's voice, but he kept his attention on the Inutaisho.

"What was I to say? There was no way for him to be prepared."

"And this is so much better?" the dog lord demanded sarcastically, his voice thundering with anger. The humans all took an involuntary step back.

"I couldn't have him all in a fret traveling here. I needed his attention focused on what must be done before the full moon."

"You could have given him some warning! This kind of shock is not going to help him stay focused!"

Zairin felt anger fill him, and his own voice rose, filled with deadly power. "You forget your place, Inu no Taisho. This is not a reunion between you and Inuyasha. This is a battle for the fate of the living world. What goes on between you and your children is secondary to our first and main task."

The two demons stared one another down for a long moment, the clearing filled with a dangerous silence.

"I am sorry, Nii-chan," Zairin said softly, "but that is the way it is. Our task _must_ come first, or it is all for nothing."

There was another long moment of silence before the Inutaisho gave a terse nod, though his jaw was still tight with anger.

Zairin glanced at the others, then looked back at the Inutaisho. "Perhaps," he said quietly, "I could have told him when we arrived. However, I believe this was the better way. He did not have time to think about it, to worry himself, or get worked up. This way, you get a clean start."

The Inutaisho nodded again, this time without anger.

"We will begin training at sunrise," Zairin said. "Go to him, Nii-chan."

The Inutaisho looked back at the clearing. Zairin already knew what he'd see.

Inuyasha had fled.

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**A/N:**

Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. On a side note, if anyone is interested I have a new Bleach fanfiction on the go right now as well. You can find it via my profile page. Has anyone heard anything about the brand new Inuyasha series that's supposed to be coming out this year? I don't know much about it, and I'm really not sure what to think at this point.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha does not belong to me.

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The Gatherer of Souls

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Chapter 11

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Kagome stared from the Gyazaseishou to the strange demon and back again. Then she looked around behind her, surprised to see the spot where Inuyasha had been now standing empty.

But Inuyasha _never_ ran away.

She looked back just as the strange new demon strode forward, crossing the clearing and disappearing into the surrounding woods in the direction Kagome supposed Inuyasha had gone. The new demon didn't look at any of them.

Kagome, along with the others, turned back to face the Gatherer.

"What's wrong with Inuyasha?" Kagome demanded.

"Just who was that demon?" Miroku asked.

"What exactly is going on?" Sango said.

Zairin, who had been staring after Inuyasha and the strange demon with an oddly thoughtful expression, turned his dark gaze on them.

"I had thought it was obvious," he said coldly, then pointed his chin in the direction the demon and half-demon had disappeared. "That is the Inutaisho, the Lord of the Western Domain; Inuyasha and Sesshomaru's father."

There was yet another long silence, in which Kagome's mind grappled uselessly with what the demon had just said.

"But that's impossible!" she finally burst out. "Inuyasha's father is dead! He died a long time ago!"

The Gyazaseishou stared at her for a moment, his frozen eyes once again searing her soul as he saw through everything she might have tried to hide. "So he did. But he is alive once again."

Kagome ground her teeth. Couldn't the Gatherer give them a straight answer just once? _Without_ them having to pry every single word out of him!

"How is that?" Miroku asked, his tone demanding an answer.

The Gyazaseishou was beginning to look annoyed. "I resurrected him to fulfill the prophecy." His eyes narrowed with displeasure. "Do all humans ask questions to which the answers are obvious?"

Kagome eyed the demon, feeling a little nervous. He had that same toneless, _dangerous_ quality to his voice that he used with Myoga. She realized they were pushing the levels of his tolerance.

Just then another thing occurred to her. If that strange demon was indeed Inuyasha's father, then he was also the Gyazaseishou closest friend—his only friend. He must be upset about the argument they'd had, and that was putting a strain on his patience.

She felt a flash of annoyance at herself when she realized she was actually _surprised_ that the Gatherer of Souls could experience such humanlike emotions.

And then the enormity of what was happening crashed down on her.

Inuyasha's _father_. Whom Inuyasha had never really known, whom he couldn't even remember. The great dog demon, a legend in the west, enormously powerful and deadly. The one person Inuyasha never talked about. The demon from whose fangs the Tetsusaiga was forged.

_She_ was shocked and awed to have seen him, to have heard his voice. How must Inuyasha feel?

She'd thought he would want to meet his father. He treasured the Tetsusaiga, after all. And yet . . . he had run away the first chance he gotten. Poor guy. He must be completely overwhelmed.

"You should have told him," she muttered, then clapped a hand to her mouth when she realized she had spoken out loud.

"Be not a fool," Zairin replied icily, his annoyance even more apparent now. "What good would it have done? Inuyasha had no expectations upon meeting his father, and therefore no expectations to be crushed. This way, there was nothing clouding his vision—not the opinions of others, not his own fears and insecurities, no preconceptions at all—for the first time he looked upon his father."

The demon glared frostily at them for a moment, then walked over to his mount, obviously finished with the conversation.

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, I must say, this is unexpected," Miroku said uncomfortably, rubbing a hand over the back of his head.

"Yes," Kagome agreed softly. "Poor Inuyasha."

"It must be so overwhelming for him," Sango added sympathetically.

"Wait a second," Shippo said, jumping onto to Sango's shoulder, "you're all talking about this like it's a bad thing. Shouldn't Inuyasha be happy to see his father? I know I'd been happy to see my dad if he was brought back to life."

"We're not saying it's a bad thing, Shippo," Miroku said somberly. "But don't forget, you knew your father before he died. Inuyasha didn't. We're just saying it must be very hard for him, to meet his father for the first time. We all know how much he's looked up to him."

Shippo frowned uncertainly. "I still think Inuyasha should be happy."

"I'm sure he is," Kagome said with false sincerity. "Or will be, given a little time." _As soon as he gets used to the idea . . . which, knowing Inuyasha, will take, oh, a couple decades._

She looked into the trees where Inuyasha and his father were. And wondered what was happening between them.

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He found Inuyasha sitting on a fallen log near the edge of a small cliff, looking out over the mountain landscape.

The Inutaisho slowly approached, then sat down on the log, careful not to sit so far away as for it to seem impersonal, but also not too close as to make his son uncomfortable. He settled himself on the log, then looked at the profile of Inuyasha's face.

The setting sun illuminated his son's countenance with deep shadows, making him look both younger and older at the same time. Even so, the Inutaisho could see the resemblance Inuyasha bore to Izayoi, his mother, and it brought a bittersweet ache to his chest. The Inutaisho could see that Inuyasha was still young, still growing. Soon though, he would fill out and reach his full height. He would be as tall and broad-shouldered as his father and brother.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Inuyasha continued to stare straight ahead, though the Inutaisho suspected he saw nothing. Deciding that Inuyasha was not going to be the first to speak, the Inutaisho took a deep, silent breath.

"Inuyasha?" he began softly.

"You don't want Tetsusaiga back, do you?" his son interrupted abruptly, his voice harsh. He continued to stare straight ahead, his hand closing tightly around the hilt of the sword.

"No," the Inutaisho said, his voice soft but firm. "Tetsusaiga is yours, Inuyasha. It belongs to you."

He watched as the first layer of tension seemed to melt out of his son. But there were still a lot of layers left to go. The Inutaisho knew that this was a new kind of battle, one where he had to consider each move carefully before acting, one where a single mistake would mean defeat. He had to tread carefully.

The Inutaisho looked out of the darkening landscape. "I did not realize Zairin had not told you," he said quietly. "I did not wish for things to happen this way. For you to find out like this."

Inuyasha, after a moment's silence, grunted in acknowledgement, but said nothing more, still refusing to look at his father.

The Inutaisho's eyes narrowed. Something was bothering Inuyasha. Something that was weighing on his son's shoulders, something that seemed to be fueling this . . . this fear that the dog demon sensed in his son.

The Inutaisho tried again. "Inuyasha . . ." He searched for the right words. "I am sorry that I was not there for you and your mother."

That got a reaction.

Inuyasha's head snapped around, his fierce golden eyes delivering the older demon a slashing look before his gaze swept back to the distant horizon. Every line of his body was stiff with tension.

"I don't need you," Inuyasha snapped. "I managed just fine on my own. I don't need _anyone_ to protect me."

The Inutaisho winced slightly. That had obviously been the wrong thing to say. "I did not mean to imply that you did, Inuyasha," he said slowly. Inuyasha remained stiff, and his unhappiness and anger were a palpable cloud swirling around him.

The Inutaisho's chest tightened with worry and pain. This wasn't working! He was doing something wrong. He had to breach this distance between them, he had to reach out to Inuyasha. But he just didn't know how.

He had to find just the right thing to say, and find it soon, or he might just end up losing his son forever.

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A/N:

_The Gatherer of Souls_ has been nominated by the Inuyasha FanGuild for Best Original Character for the Second Quarter of 2009. Yay! A great big huge thank-you to my nominator!

So this is an extra early update in celebration of GS's nomination—plus I got a bunch of great reviews highly anticipating the next chapter! The chapter is a bit short, but I figured short was better than nothing at all, right? :)


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